Thoreau loved ants. He'd meet one in the morning and spend the whole day talking to him.
If the sky falls they shall have clouds for supper.
Poetry: three mismatched shoes at the entrance of a dark alley.
Poetry is an orphan of silence.
Dear Friedrich, the world's still false, cruel and beautiful...
رقة كائن آدمي تجاه آخر في أزمنة الكراهية الجماعية والعنف الجماعي تستحق احترامًا أكثر من كل وعظ الكنائس منذ بدء الزمان.
كلما كان الظلم فادحا كان الغضب أعلى
التعقل البطولي في مواجهة العبث هو تقريبًا كل ما نمتلك.
The poem I want to write is impossible. A stone that floats.
I remember, someone said, how in ancient times one could turn a wolf into a human and then lecture it to one's heart's content.
This strange thing must have crept Right out of hell.It resembles a bird’s footWorn around the cannibal’s neck.As you hold it in your hand,As you stab with it into a piece of meat,It is possible to im...
In the circle of yellow lamplight,These few roof-beams and columnsOf what could be a Mogul Emperor's palace.The Prince chews his long nails,The Princess lowers her green eyelids.They both smoke too mu...
If the photographers are soul-thieves, whose soul is being stolen in a photograph of the night sky? The soul of the last one to go to bed and the soul of the first one to rise in the morning, perhaps?...
History is a cookbook. The tyrants are chefs. The philosophers write menus. The priests are waiters. The military men are bouncers. The singing you hear is the poets washing dishes in the kitchen.
هندوانهبودای سبزبر پیشخوان میوه فروشلبخندش را گاز میزنیمو دندانهایش را تف میکنیم ::Watermelons Green BuddhasOn the fruit stand.
«ظلُّنا واحدٌ.لكن ظلُّ مَنْ منّا؟أودّ أن أقول:«لقد كان في البدايةوسيكون عند النهاية»،لكن لا يقين في ذلك.ليلابينما أجلسخالطا أوراق صمتنا،أقول له:«مع أنّك تلفظ كلّ واحدة من كلماتي،فأنت غريبٌآن لك أنْ تت...
Never since the beginning of the world has there been so little light. Our winter afternoons have been known at times to last a hundred years.
Everyone vain, dull, peevish, and sexually frustrated dreams of legislating his impotence. Mao’s uniforms: a billion people dressing the same and shouting from his little red book continues to be the...
When you play chess alone it's always your move.
The stars know everything,So we try to read their minds.