As silent midnight brings a ghost,
a shadowed echo of the past
will speak enchanting foolish words
of how our love has never died.
...
We can kill the tyrant,
but we cannot kill tyranny.
For tyranny dwells within
the selfish human heart.
...
in cities of ideas
‘twas said the poet dwells
he climbs the highest peak
he delves the deepest well
...
rhythm of the wave
is like the rhythm
of the heart
is like the rhythm
...
Young lover's days
are an indulgence.
Perfumed moods,
heat and passion,
...
In my youth I was a hunter.
As age advances, I hunt for memory.
I remember planting flowers by the front steps,
just old enough to dig with a spoon.
...
My loves live on in clearest memory,
for I have not forgot what used to be.
And though my hair is gray, my spirit weak,
I still will cherish all of whom I speak.
...
laid waste by terror and war
an ancient city
built on Neolithic memory
astride the Silk Road
...
oh yes, I am a fisherman
but that's not what I mean
the one that got away you see
became a lonely dream
...