Love! Love until the night collapses!

I got lost in the night, without the light of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness.

In what language does rain fall over tormented cities?

It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.

And I, infinitesima l being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke loose on the wind.

While I'm writing, I'm far away; and when I come back, I've gone.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

If suddenly you do not exist, If suddenly you are not living, I shall go on living. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall go on living.

Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.

Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?

If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life

Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.

Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?

I want to see thirst In the syllables, Tough fire In the sound; Feel through the dark For the scream.

Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying...and every day on the balcony of the sea wings open fire is born and everything is blue again like morning.

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.

Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy.

About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you

I love you as one loves certain dark things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

In the eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark, vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep, downward, in the soaked guts of the earth, absorbing and thinking, eating each day.

By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness

I like on the table, when we're speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine.

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness And the infinite tenderness shattered you like a jar.

I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.....

How much does a man live, after all?/ Does he live a thousand days, or one only? For a week, or for several centuries?/ How long does a man spend dying?/ What does it mean to say 'for ever'?

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.

Love is a clash of lightnings

With your name on my mouth and a kiss that never broke away from yours.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.

And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table.

Sometimes i get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet.

I want to see the thirst inside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel the darkness of the cry. I want words as rough as virgin rocks.” - Verb.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?

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.

When I got the chance I asked them a slew of questions. They offered to burn me; it was the only thing they knew.

Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

En el amor, como agua del mar te has desatado. (In love, you have loosened yourself like seawater)

Every day you play with the light of the universe.