And as we stray further from love, we multiply the words. Had we remained together we could have become a silence.

And as we stray further from love, we multiply the words. Had we remained together we could have become a silence.

The reason a poet is a poet is to write poems, not to advertise himself as a poet.

I try to stay a civilian, to live as a human, not as a poet.

It was not an adventure; it was my life.

Here (Jerusalem), tears do not weaken the eyes, they only polish and shine the hardness of faces like stone.

I think the end is endless. It's either a big black hole or a big white light or both together. But it's totally meaningless, because even if someone would explain it, I wouldn't understand it.