I Think The End Is Endless. It's

Here (jerusalem), Tears Do Not Weaken The Eyes, They Only Polish And Shine The Hardness Of Faces Like Stone.

Tonight I Think Again Of Many Days That Are Sacrificed For One Night Of Love. Of The Waste And The Fruit Of The Waste, Of Plenty And Of Fire. And How Painlessly-time.

The Reason A Poet Is A Poet Is To Write Poems, Not To Advertise Himself As A Poet.

Knowledge Of Peace Passes From Country To Country, Like Children's Games, Which Are So Much Alike, Everywhere.

I’ve Never Been In Those Places Where I’ve Never Been And Never Will Be, I Have No Share In The Infinity Of Light-years And Dark-years, But The Darkness Is Mine, And The Light, And My Time Is My Own.