A woman is more beautiful than the world in which I live; and so I close my eyes.

The earth is blue like an orange.

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

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.

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

Even when we sleep we watch over one another.

She is standing on my lids And her hair is in my hair She has the colour of my eye She has the body of my hand In my shade she is engulfed As a stone against the sky She will never close her eyes And she does not let me sleep And her dreams in the bright day Make the suns evaporate And me laugh cry and laugh Speak when I have nothing to say