Art Is What Remains Of Religion: The

Modern Man Likes To Pretend That His Thinking Is Wide-awake. But This Wide-awake Thinking Has Led Us Into The Mazes Of A Nightmare In Which The Torture Chambers Are Endlessly Repeated In The Mirrors Of Reason.

Poetry Is Not Truth, It Is The Resurrection Of Presences.

Beyond Myself, Somewhere, I Wait For My Arrival.

Deserve Your Dream.

To Read A Poem Is To Hear It With Our Eyes; To Hear It Is To See It With Our Ears.