Sharp Nostalgia, Infinite And Terrible,

The Urban Man Is An Uprooted Tree, He Can Put Out Leaves, Flowers And Grow Fruit But What A Nostalgia His Leaf, Flower, And Fruit Will Always Have For Mother Earth!

I Am Not I. I Am This One Walking Beside Me Whom I Do Not See, Whom At Times I Manage To Visit, And Whom At Other Times I Forget; Who Remains Calm And Silent While I Talk, And Forgives, Gently, When I Hate, Who Walks Where I Am Not, Who Will Remain Standing When I Die.

I Unpetalled You, Like A Rose, To See Your Soul, And I Didn't See It. But Everything Around -horizons Of Land And Of Seas-, Everything, Out To The Infinite, Was Filled With A Fragrance, Enormous And Alive.

If They Give You Ruled Paper, Write The Other Way.

The Greatest Assassin Of Life Is Haste, The Desire To Reach Things Before The Right Time Which Means Overreaching Them.