Only Mystery Allows Us To Live, Only

If Blue Is Dream What Then Innocence? What Awaits The Heart If Love Bears No Arrows?

Green How I Want You Green. Green Wind. Green Branches.

The Little Mute Boy The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. (the King Of The Crickets Had It.) In A Drop Of Water The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. I Do Not Want It For Speaking With; I Will Make A Ring Of It So That He May Wear My Silence On His Little Finger In A Drop Of Water The Little Boy Was Looking For His Voice. (the Captive Voice, Far Away, Put On A Cricket's Clothes.) Translated By William S. Merwin

Theatre Is Poetry That Rises From The Book And Becomes Human Enough To Talk And Shout, Weep And Despair

Men Like To Pleasure Us, Girl. They Like To Undo Our Plaits And Give Us Water To Drink From Their Own Mouths. That's What Makes The World Go Round.