He Hath Awakened From The Dream Of

It Were As Wise To Cast A Violet Into A Crucible That You Might Discover The Formal Principle Of Its Color And Odor, As Seek To Transfuse From One Language Into Another The Creations Of A Poet. The Plant Must Spring Again From Its Seed, Or It Will Bear No Flower -- And This Is The Burthen Of The Curse Of Babel.

The Young Moon Has Fed Her Exhausted Horn With The Sunset's Fire.

I Bring Fresh Showers For The Thirsting Flowers, From The Seas And The Streams; I Bear Light Shade For The Leaves When Laid In Their Noonday Dreams.

I Am Convinced That There Can Be No Regeneration Of Mankind Until Laughter Is Put Down.

In Fact, Truth Cannot Be Communicated Until It Is Perceived.