We the mortals touch the metals, the wind, the ocean shores, the stones, knowing they will go on, inert or burning, and I was discovering, naming all….

There's a country spread out in the sky, a credulous carpet of rainbows and crepuscular plants: I move toward it just a bit haggardly, trampling a gr….

sometimes i get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet..

Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly..

You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring..

My duty moves along with my song: I am I am not: that is my destiny. I exist not if I do not attend to the pain of those who suffer: they are my pain….

A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory..

Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness..

Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands..

White bee, even when you are gone you buzz in my soul You live again in time, slender and silent..

Love is so short, forgetting is so long..

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window..

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations..

It's hard to tell / if we close our eyes or if night / opens in us other starred eyes, / if it burrows into the wall of our dream / till some other d….

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy..

To harden the earth the rocks took charge: instantly they grew wings: the rocks that soared: the survivors flew up the lightning bolt, screamed in th….

And that's why i have to go back to so many places there to find myself and constantly examine myself with no witness but the moon and then whistle w….

Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her..

If you should ask me where I've been all this time I have to say "Things happen." I have to dwell on stones darkening the earth, on the river ruined ….

The typewriter separated me from a deeper intimacy with poetry, and my hand brought me closer to that intimacy again..

Oh each successive night that comes has something in it of an abandoned ember that is slowly burning out, and it falls swathed in ruins, surrounded b….