The White Sun Like A Moth On

The White Sun Like A Moth On A String Circles The Southpole.

I Have A Life That Did Not Become, That Turned Aside And Stopped, Astonished

The Poet Exposes Himself To The Risk. All That Has Been Said About Poetry, All That He Has Learned About Poetry, Is Only A Partial Assurance.

I Can't Tell You Where A Poem Comes From, What It Is, Or What It Is For: Nor Can Any Other Man. The Reason I Can't Tell You Is That The Purpose Of A Poem Is To Go Past Telling, To Be Recognised By Burning.

You Have Your Identity When You Find Out, Not What You Can Keep Your Mind On, But What You Can't Keep Your Mind Off.