What Is This Enigmatic Impulse

Yet Falling In Love Is Not The Same As Being Able To Love.

Not That I Want To Be A God Or A Hero. Just To Change Into A Tree, Grow For Ages, Not Hurt Anyone.

Do You Know How It Is When One Wakes At Night Suddenly And Asks, Listening To The Pounding Heart: What More Do You Want, Insatiable?

All Was Taken Away From You: White Dresses, Wings, Even Existence.

Every Poet Depends Upon Generations Who Wrote In His Native Tongue; He Inherits Styles And Forms Elaborated By Those Who Lived Before Him. At The Same Time, Though, He Feels That Those Old Means Of Expression Are Not Adequate To His Own Experience.