I used to read the myths of love Now I have become the mythical lover
Love is the soul's light, the taste of morning, no me, no we, no claim of being.
The cure for pain is in the pain.
If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring.
Sit with lovers and choose their state. Do not stay long with those who are not living in the heart.
I am so mad with love that mad men say to me - be still!