Of all these beauties
nothing is coming to me anymore.
I should yield, thank, enjoy
but a tired voice is... more »
Living The Poem
I get close to the life
listening its song night and day
but I must needs go
before my dream lessen.... more »
We were told to draw a portrait at our choice
but we were send only words.
The beggar was still there, near the apple-tree in blossom,
punished to count stars or to assist the leaves' death.... more »