Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice… (read more)
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the… (read more)
But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.