“The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without target evening without morning and the first dead bird on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart mortally wounded by five swords.”

“The night above. We two. Full moon.I started to weep, you laughed.Your scorn was a god, my lamentsmoments and doves in a chain.The night below. We two. Crystal of pain.You wept over great distances.My ache was a clutch of agoniesover your sickly heart of sand.Dawn married us on the bed,our mouths to the frozen spoutof unstaunched blood.The sun came through the shuttered balconyand the coral of life opened its branchesover my shrouded heart.- Night of Sleepless Love”

“I was weeping again, drunk on the impossible past.”

“The night below. We two. Crystal of pain.You wept over great distances.My ache was a clutch of agoniesover your sickly heart of sand.”

“At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the white sheet at five in the afternoon. A frail of lime ready prepared at five in the afternoon. The rest was death, and death alone”

“The round silence of night,one note on the staveof the infinite.Ripe with lost poems,I step naked into the street.The blackness riddledby the singing of crickets:sound,that deadwill-o'-the-wisp,that musical lightperceivedby the spirit.A thousand butterfly skeletonssleep within my walls.A wild crowd of young breezesover the river.- Hour of Stars (1920)”

“Laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone.”