Perhaps Time’s Definition Of Coal Is The

Poetry Is Not The Opinion Stated. It Is A Song That Appears Instead Of A Bloody Wound Or A Smiling Mouth.

How Distant I Am From People When I Am With Them, And How Close When They Are Far Away.

Spare Me The Political Events And Power Struggles, As The Whole Earth Is My Homeland And All Men Are My Fellow Countrymen.

My Friend, Be Not Like Him Who Sits By His Fireside And Watches The Fire Go Out, Then Blows Vainly Upon The Dead Ashes. Do Not Give Up Hope Or Yield To Despair Because Of That Which Is Past, For To Bewail The Irretrievable Is The Worst Of Human Frailties.

Life Is The Mistress To Be Wooed.