I Have All That I Lost And

You Shall Create Beauty Not To Excite The Senses But To Give Sustenance To The Soul.

Writing Tends To Cheer Me; It Always Soothes My Spirit And Blesses Me With The Gift Of An Innocent, Tender, Childlike Day. It Is The Sensation Of Having Spent A Few Hours In My Homeland, With My Customs, Free Whims, My Total Freedom.

Let The Earth Look At Me, And Bless Me, For Now I Am Fecund And Sacred, Like The Palms And The Furrows.

Now I Am Nothing But A Veil; All My Body Is A Veil Beneath Which A Child Sleeps.

I Have A Faithful Joy And A Joy That Is Lost. One Is Like A Rose, The Other, A Thorn. The One That Was Stolen I Have Not Lost.