For Every Language That Becomes

The Supreme Value Is Not The Future But The Present. The Future Is A Deceitful Time That Always Says To Us, 'not Yet,' And Thus Denies Us... Whoever Builds A House For Future Happiness Builds A Prison For The Present.

Poets Have The Gift To Speak For Others, Vasko Popa Had The Very Rare Quality Of Hearing The Others.

No One Behind, No One Ahead. The Path The Ancients Cleared Has Closed. And The Other Path, Everyone's Path, Easy And Wide, Goes Nowhere. I Am Alone And Find My Way.

The Ideal Of A Single Civilization For Everyone, Implicit In The Cult Of Progress And Technique, Impoverishes And Mutilates Us

Literature Is The Expression Of A Feeling Of Deprivation, A Recourse Against A Sense Of Something Missing. But The Contrary Is Also True: Language Is What Makes Us Human. It Is A Recourse Against The Meaningless Noise And Silence Of Nature And History.