You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was….

This Cruel Age has deflected me..

No, not under the vault of another sky, not under the shelter of other wings. I was with my people then, there where my people were doomed to be..

I myself, from the very beginning, Seemed to myself like someone's dream or delirium Or a reflection in someone else's mirror, Without flesh, without….

Wild honey smells of freedom The dust - of sunlight The mouth of a young girl, like a violet But gold - smells of nothing..

All that I am hangs by a thread tonight.

I seem to myself, as in a dream, Am accidental guest in this dreadful body..

I am in the middle of it: chaos and poetry; poetry and love and again, complete chaos. Pain, disorder, occasional clarity; and at the bottom of it al….

Though you are three times more beautiful than angels, Though you are the sister of the river willows, I will kill you with my singing, Without spill….

I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death, and something else I'd rather not recall just now..