Men Of Ideas Vanish When Freedom Vanishes.

Poetry Is A Plan For A Slit In The Face Of A Bronze Fountain Goat And The Path Of Fresh Drinking Water.

Poetry Is A Sky Dark With A Wild-duck Migration.

The Peace Of Great Books Be For You, Stains Of Pressed Clover Leaves On Pages, Bleach Of The Light Of Years Held In Leather.

For We Know When A Nation Goes Down And Never Comes Back, When A Society Or A Civilization Perishes, One Condition May Always Be Found. They Forgot Where They Came From. They Lost Sight Of What Brought Them Along.

Look Out How You Use Proud Words. When You Let Proud Words Go, It Is Not Easy To Call Them Back. They Wear Long Boots, Hard Boots; They Walk Off Proud; They Can't Hear You Calling. Look Out How You Use Proud Words.