Your love taught me to grieveand I have been needing, for centuriesa woman to make me grievefor a woman, to cry upon her armslike a sparrowfor a woman to gather my pieceslike shards of broken crystal
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
-
Pablo Neruda
It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.
-
Virginia Woolf
Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!
-
Edwin Arnold
The true poem rests between the words.
-
Vanna Bonta
Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.
-
Mark Strand
