“A thousand Dreams within me softly burn”

“A thousand Dreams within me softly burn:From time to time my heart is like some oakWhose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.”

“Evening prayerI spend my life sitting, like an angel in a barber's chair,Holding a beer mug with deep-cut designs,My neck and gut both bent, while in the airA weightless veil of pipe smoke hangs.Like steaming dung within an old dovecoteA thousand Dreams within me softly burn:From time to time my heart is like some oakWhose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.And then, when I have swallowed down my DreamsIn thirty, forty mugs of beer, I turnTo satisfy a need I can't ignore,And like the Lord of Hyssop and of MyrrhI piss into the skies, a soaring streamThat consecrates a patch of flowering fern.”

“And, in the dawn, armed with a burning patience, we shall enter the splendid cities.”

“It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense,/ That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.”

“Je est un autre.”

“J'ai tendu des cordes de clocher a clocher; des guirlandes de fenetre a fenetre; des chaines d'or d'etoile a etoile, et je danse.”