“What does autumn go on paying for with so much yellow money?”

In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.

But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.

I’m not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.

I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.

For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.

Someday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

Everything is so alive, that I can be alive. Without moving I can see it all. In your life I see everything that lives.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.

I love you only because it’s you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.

Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.

Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.

An autumn night – don’t think your life didn’t matter.

This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.

I think autumn can teach us a lot about love. About how muh beauty can be hidden in layers of change.

That it would always be summer and autumn, and you always courting me, and always thinking as much of me as you have done through the past summertime!

Autumn sheds the leaves like tear drops.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.

I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.