My Love, I Fear The Silence Of

And You Became Like Coffee, In The Deliciousness, And The Bitterness, And The Addiction.

My Homeland Is Not A Suitcase, And I Am No Traveller

The Days Have Taught You Not To Trust Happiness Because It Hurts When It Deceives.

On This Earth There Is That Which Deserves Life.

I See What I Want Of Love... I See Horses Making The Meadow Dance, Fifty Guitars Sighing, And A Swarm Of Bees Suckling The Wild Berries, And I Close My Eyes Until I See Our Shadow Behind This Dispossessed Place... I See What I Want Of People: Their Desire To Long For Anything, Their Lateness In Getting To Work And Their Hurry To Return To Their Folk... And Their Need To Say: Good Morning.