I hear it in the deep heart's core.

An intellectual hate is the worst.

Whence had they come The hand and lash that beat down frigid Rome? What sacred drama through her body heaved When world-transforming Charlemagne was conceived?

... Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild bird mate in the wild.

How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics?

Life moves out of a red flare of dreams Into a common light of common hours, Until old age brings the red flare again.

What do we know but that we face one another in this place?