The hill can not be seen
And the trees are shivering
For the North Wind blows hard
Thru their leaves.
...
The herb in a desert he saw,
amidst the whirling of sand,
whirling and whirling,
making an upward tunnel it went.
...
Concluding the chapter
of happiness, if I'm asked
to reply the question- - - - -
Am I happy?
...
My storm,
none like you
I find on the
way I tread so long!
...
I don't write poem,
but poem makes me
write it!
The surfing emotion
...
I was not a poet
and couldn't open
the wings of imagination.
...
I went to sea many times..
watched the waves, the
virgin islands, I loved
to walk on the sand,
...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Nothingness is gripping my soul.
From the heart of my hearts I feel
something was, encircling me like
...
Just told you not to drop it,
o the merchant of Madrid!
My heart is made of glass,
it's fragile, care it did need.
...