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No good poem, however confessional it may be, is just a self-expression. Who on earth...

No good poem, however confessional it may be, is just a self-expression. Who on earth...

Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.

Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.

We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.

We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.

First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that...

First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that...