Words Are A Pretext. It Is The

Why Should I Be Unhappy? Each Parcel Of My Being Is In Full Bloom.

This Is How It Always Is When I Finish A Poem. A Great Silence Overcomes Me And I Wonder Why I Ever Thought To Use Language.

Weep Like The Waterwheel, That Green Herbs May Spring Up From The Courtyard Of Your Soul. If You Wish For Tears, Have Mercy On One Who Sheds Tears; If You Wish Mercy, Show Mercy To The Weak.

I Was You And Never Knew It.

Listen . Keep Silent . You Are Not Gods Mouthpiece. Try To Be An Ear.