The Art Of One Period Cannot Be

But Childhood Prolonged, Cannot Remain A Fairyland. It Becomes A Hell.

I Hope That One Or Two Immortal Lyrics Will Come Out Of All This Tumbling Around.

It Is Not Possible, For A Poet, Writing In Any Language, To Protect Himself From The Tragic Elements In Human Life.... [ellipsis In Source] Illness, Old Age, And Death--subjects As Ancient As Humanity--these Are The Subjects That The Poet Must Speak Of Very Nearly From The First Moment That He Begins To Speak.

Your Work Is Carved Out Of Agony As A Statue Is Carved Out Of Marble.

At Midnight Tears Run Into Your Ears.