My Advanced Age Has Taught Me The

As The End Approaches, There Are No Longer Any Images From Memory - There Are Only Words.

The Original Is Unfaithful To The Translation.

The Future Is As Irrevocable As An Inflexible Yesterday.

I Am Not Sure That I Exist, Actually. I Am All The Writers That I Have Read, All The People That I Have Met, All The Women That I Have Loved; All The Cities I Have Visited.

In Vain Have Oceans Been Squandered On You, In Vain The Sun, Wonderfully Seen Through Whitman’s Eyes. You Have Used Up The Years And They Have Used Up You, And Still, And Still, You Have Not Written The Poem.