Follow, poet, follow right To the bottom of the night, With your unconstraining voice Still persuade us to rejoice; With the farming of a verse Make a vineyard of the curse, Sing of human unsuccess In a rapture of distress; In the deserts of the heart Let the healing fountain start, In the prison of his days Teach the free man how to praise.

Let all your thinks be thanks.

Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table.

To pray is to pay attention to something or someone other than oneself.

There is no such thing as the State And no one exists alone; Hunger allows no choice To the citizen or the police; We must love one another or die.

Art is our chief means of breaking bread with the dead.

We were put on this earth to make things.