The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love.

We want to be, when we are young, A little man. I would like to be a big child, Stronger and fairer than a man, And more lucid than a child.

The poet is he who inspires, rather than he who is inspired.

You cannot be known Better than I know you.

The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love.

The front windows as are the watchmen of grief - I've been looking beyond expectation - Beyond myself - and I do not know as I love you - Which one of us is missing.

I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nights Your eyes in which I travel Have given to signs along the roads A meaning alien to the earth In your eyes who reveal to us Our endless solitude Are no longer what they thought themselves to be You cannot be known Better than I know you.