Language Is The Only Homeland.

We Have Become Indifferent To Content, And React, Not Even To Form, But To Technique, To Technical Efficiency Itself.

I Have Defined Poetry As A 'passionate Pursuit Of The Real.

I Think That I Am Here, On This Earth, To Present A Report On It, But To Whom I Don't Know. As If I Were Sent So That Whatever Takes Place Has Meaning Because It Changes Into Memory.

Only A White-haired Old Man, Who Would Be A Prophet Yet Is Not A Prophet, For He's Much Too Busy, Repeats While He Binds His Tomatoes: No Other End Of The World Will There Be, No Other End Of The World Will There Be.

I Have No Wisdom, No Skills, And No Faith But I Received Strength, It Tears The World Apart. I Shall Break, A Heavy Wave, Against Its Shores And A Young Wave Will Cover My Trace.