The purpose of poetry is to make life complete in itself.
Metaphor creates a new reality from which the original appears to be unreal.
Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor on the nunnery beaches.
Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.
Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.
The point of vision and desire are the same.