A Line Is A Fuse That's Lit.

But I, From Poetry's Skies, Plunge Into Communism, Because Without It I Feel No Love.

Gentle Souls! You Play Your Love On The Violin. The Crude Ones Play It On The Drums Violently. But Can You Turn Yourselves Inside Out, Like Me And Become Just Two Lips Entirely?

Our Planet Is Poorly Equipped For Delight. One Must Snatch Gladness From The Days That Are. In This Life It's Not Difficult To Die. To Make Life Is More Difficult By Far.

Listen! If Stars Are Lit It Means There Is Someone Who Needs It, It Means Someone Wants Them To Be, That Someone Deems Those Specks Of Spit Magnificent!

Too Slow, The Wagons Of Years, The Oxen Of Days--too Glum. Our God Is The God Of Speed, Our Heart--our Battle-drum.