A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything)
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
In spite of all the dishonour, the broken standards, the broken lives, The broken faith in one place or another, There was something left that was more than the tales Of old men on winter evenings.
If all time is eternally present, all time is unredeemable
Every moment is a new and shocking transvaluation of all we have ever been.
Maturing as a poet means maturing as the whole man, experiencing new emotions appropriate to one's age, and with the same intensity as the emotions of youth.