There Are Quantities Of Human Beings, But

Nothing Touches A Work Of Art So Little As Criticism.

Earth, My Dearest, Oh Believe Me, You No Longer Need Your Springtimes To Win Me Over...unspeakably, I Have Belonged To You, From The Flush.

Be Ahead Of All Farewells As If They Were Behind You, Like The Winter That Is Just Departing.

Poetic Power Is Great, Strong As A Primitive Instinct; It Has Its Own Unyielding Rhythms In Itself And Breaks Out As Out Of Mountains.

I Learn It Every Day Of My Life, Learn It With Pain I Am Grateful For: Patience Is Everything!