Whatever to others we do,
whether in the scale of “so many” or a...

I dream of you
in jazz...

I cannot identify with these objects any longer.
They are not what my past indicated them to be...

All in silver and grey,
in the dying bed...

Looking into the paradox
of distance and destination...

If you crucify him again,
what will be your excuse...

There are transparent fossils,
the fossils of voices...

Beauty is the attribute of harmony and colours,
justness of the portions and equality...

Four shadows in light,
triads fold to squares in dusk...

They all wait like vultures:
When the injured bird would fall...

They scare us with death
Until we are frightened of living...

He could never have
the woman he loved because...