From The Place Where We

I Wanted To Be Calm, Like A Mound With All Its Cities Destroyed, And Tranquil, Like A Full Cemetery.

The Reason A Poet Is A Poet Is To Write Poems, Not To Advertise Himself As A Poet.

From The Place Where We Are Right, Flowers Will Not Grow In The Spring.

Knowledge Of Peace Passes From Country To Country, Like Children's Games, Which Are So Much Alike, Everywhere.

The Memory Of My Father Is Wrapped Up In White Paper, Like Sandwiches Taken For A Day Of Work. Just As A Magician Takes Towers And Rabbits Out Of His Hat, He Drew Love From His Small Body.