Let The Radiance Of My Enthusiasms Envelop

I Have All That I Lost And I Go Carrying My Childhood Like A Favorite Flower That Perfumes My Hand.

I Have A Faithful Joy And A Joy That Is Lost. One Is Like A Rose, The Other, A Thorn. The One That Was Stolen I Have Not Lost.

The Poet Is An Untier Of Knots, And Love Without Words Is A Knot, And It Drowns.

What The Soul Is To The Body, So Is The Artist To His People.

I Write Poetry Because I Can’t Disobey The Impulse; It Would Be Like Blocking A Spring That Surges Up In My Throat. For A Long Time I’ve Been The Servant Of The Song That Comes, That Appears And Can’t Be Buried Away. How To Seal Myself Up Now?…it No Longer Matters To Me Who Receives What I Submit. What I Carry Out Is, In That Respect, Greater And Deeper Than I, I Am Merely The Channel.