«To be famous is not in good taste. / That is not what will exalt us. / Don’t build an archive, it’s but a waste / To raise with manuscripts a fuss. Creation calls for self-surrender / And not loud noise and cheap success. / Shame on the ignorant offender / Who lets all lips his fame...»
«Sight grows dim — my power, / Two invisible diamond lances; / Hearing fails, full of long ago thunder / And the breathing of my father’s house; / Hard knots of muscle grow feeble, / Like hoary oxen on a plow-field; / And behind my shoulders at night / No longer shine two wings. I ...»
«Every moment we were together / We celebrated, like Epiphany, / Alone in the whole world. You were / Bolder and lighter than a bird’s wing, / Head swirling with vertigo, you ran / Down the staircase and led me / Through damp lilac into your domain / On the other side of the mirror. ...»
«The rules of winter we obey. / We roll a snowball and run after, / Acclaim its growth with peals of laughter, / And brush the surplus snow away. As if misfortune were in view, / The people passing by assemble / Along the fence with lips atremble / To watch what you and I shall do. We m...»