Black Milk Of Daybreak We Drink It

The Poem Is Lonely. It Is Lonely And En Route. Its Author Stays With It. Does This Very Fact Not Place The Poem Already Here, At Its Inception, In The Encounter, In The Mystery Of Encounter?

I Went With My Very Being Toward Language.

Tall Poplars--human Beings Of This Earth!

There's Nothing In The World For Which A Poet Will Give Up Writing, Not Even He Is A Jew And The Language Of His Poems Is German.

Don't Sign Your Name Between Worlds, Surmount The Manifold Of Meanings, Trust The Tearstain, Learn To Live.