Love, How Many Roads To Obtain A

Pale Blind Diver, Luckless Slinger, Lost Discoverer, In You Everything Sank!

Girl Lithe And Tawny, The Sun That Forms The Fruits, That Plumps The Grains, That Curls Seaweeds Filled Your Body With Joy, And Your Luminous Eyes And Your Mouth That Has The Smile Of The Water. A Black Yearning Sun Is Braided Into The Strands Of Your Black Mane, When You Stretch Your Arms. You Play With The Sun As With A Little Brook And It Leaves Two Dark Pools In Your Eyes.

Joyful, Joyful, Joyful, As Only Dogs Know How To Be Happy With Only The Autonomy Of Their Shameless Spirit.

I Have Never Thought Of My Life As Divided Between Poetry And Politics.

Peace Goes Into The Making Of A Poem As Flour Goes Into The Making Of Bread.