The Poem Is In My Hands, And

My Homeland Is Not A Suitcase, And I Am No Traveller

The Importance Of Poetry Is Not Measured, Finally, By What The Poet Says But By How He Says It.

I Am From There. I Am From Here. I Am Not There And I Am Not Here. I Have Two Names, Which Meet And Part, And I Have Two Languages. I Forget Which Of Them I Dream In.

I Want To Find A Language That Transforms Language Itself Into Steel For The Spirit--a Language To Use Against These Sparkling Insects, These Jets.

I See What I Want Of Love... I See Horses Making The Meadow Dance, Fifty Guitars Sighing, And A Swarm Of Bees Suckling The Wild Berries, And I Close My Eyes Until I See Our Shadow Behind This Dispossessed Place... I See What I Want Of People: Their Desire To Long For Anything, Their Lateness In Getting To Work And Their Hurry To Return To Their Folk... And Their Need To Say: Good Morning.