No, Not Under The Vault

The Celebrations Of Secret Nonmeetings Are Empty, Unspoken Conversations, Unuttered Words. Glances That Don't Intersect Don't Know Where To Come To Rest. And Only The Tears Rejoice Because They Can Flow And Flow. Sweetbrier Around Moscow, Alas! Somehow It Is Here ... And All This They Will Call Love Eternal.

We Are All Carousers And Loose Women Here; How Unhappy We Are Together!

I Go Forth To Seek To Seek And Claim The Lovely Magic Garden Where Grasses Softly Sigh And Muses Speak.

It Is Unbearably Painful For The Soul To Love Silently.

Today I Have So Much To Do: I Must Kill Memory Once And For All, I Must Turn My Soul To Stone, I Must Learn To Live Again. Unless ... Summer's Ardent Rustling Is Like A Festival Outside My Window.