Then Scale by scale, We strip off The delicacy And eat The peaceful mush Of its green heart.

I need the sea because it teaches me

From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.

Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.

Who hasn't sharpened the edge of his soul? When, just as our eyes are opened, we see hate, and just after learning to walk, we are tripped, and just for wanting to love, we are hated, and for no more than touching, we are hurt, which of us hasn't started to arm himself, to make himself sharp, somehow, like a knife, to pay back the hurt?

my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.

Love is short, but forgetting is long.