Why Do Trees Conceal The Splendor Of

Love Is A War Of Lightning, And Two Bodies Ruined By A Single Sweetness.

The Ardent Hymn That Unites Peoples.

The Best Poet Is The Man Who Delivers Our Daily Bread: The Local Baker.

Girl Lithe And Tawny, The Sun That Forms The Fruits, That Plumps The Grains, That Curls Seaweeds Filled Your Body With Joy, And Your Luminous Eyes And Your Mouth That Has The Smile Of The Water. A Black Yearning Sun Is Braided Into The Strands Of Your Black Mane, When You Stretch Your Arms. You Play With The Sun As With A Little Brook And It Leaves Two Dark Pools In Your Eyes.

Is 4 The Same 4 For Everybody? Are All Sevens Equal? When The Convict Ponders The Light Is It The Same Light That Shines On You?