January, Month Of Empty Pockets! Let Us

To A Poet, Silence Is An Acceptable Response, Even A Flattering One.

I Want Nothing From Love, In Short, But Love.

You Do Not Notice Changes In What Is Always Before You.

A Few Days Later, I Found My Mother Beneath The Tree, Motionless With Excitement, Her Head Turned Toward The Heavens In Which She Would Allow Human Religions No Place.

In Its Early Stages, Insomnia Is Almost An Oasis In Which Those Who Have To Think Or Suffer Darkly Take Refuge.