The Days Have Taught You Not To

If The Olive Trees Knew The Hands That Planted Them, Their Oil Would Become Tears.

May Poetry And God's Name Have Mercy On Us!

The Poem Is Neither Here Nor There, And With A Girl's Breast It Can Illuminate The Nights. With The Glow Of An Apple It Fills Two Bodies With Light And With A Gardenia's Breath It Can Revive A Homeland!

Without Hope We Are Lost.

Exile Is More Than A Geographical Concept. You Can Be An Exile In Your Homeland, In Your Own House, In A Room.