Experience Is The Name Men Give To

A Lively Retrospect Summons Back To Us Once More Our Youth, With Vivid Reflex Of Its Early Joys And Unstained Pleasures.

The Fumes Of Wine Fermented In My Head; It Was One Of Those Moments Of Intoxication When All That Ones Sees And Hears, Speaks To One Of The Adored.... One Would Willingly Embrace All Who Smile, And One Feels That He Is Brother Of All Who Live.

The Blood Of My Motherland Waters A Magic Plant That Cures All Ills. That Plant Is Art, And Sometimes Art Needs Corruption As A Kind Of Fertilizer

The Soft Contralto Notes Of A Woman's Voice Are Born In The Immediate Region Of The Heart.

It Was One Of Those Somber Evenings When The Sighing Of The Wind Resembles The Moans Of A Dying Man; A Storm Was Brewing, And Between The Splashes Of Rain On The Windows There Was The Silence Of Death. All Nature Suffers In Such Moments; The Trees Writhe In Pain And Twist Their Heads; The Birds Of The Fields Cower Under The Bushes; The Streets Of Cities Are Deserted.