“Maria!How can I fit a tender word into bulging ears?”

“You entered,Abrupt like “Take it!”,Mauling suede gloves, you tarried,And said:“You know,-I’m soon getting married.” Get married then.It’s all right,I can handle it.You see - I’m calm, of course!Like the pulse Of a corpse. Remember?You used to say:“Jack London,Money,Love and ardour,”--I saw one thing only:You were La Gioconda,Which had to be stolen! And someone stole you. Again in love, I shall start gambling,With fire illuminating the arch of my eyebrows.And why not?Sometimes, the homeless ramblersWill seek to find shelter in a burnt down house! You’re mocking me?“You’ve fewer emeralds of madnessthan a beggar kopecks, there’s no disproving this!”But rememberPompeii came to end thusWhen somebody teased Vesuvius! Hey!Gentlemen!You care forSacrilege,CrimeAnd war.But have you seenThe frightening terrorOf my faceWhenIt’s Perfectly calm? And I feel-“I”Is too small to fit me.Someone inside me is getting smothered.”

“They stood brow to brow, brown to white, black to black, he supporting her elbows, she playing her limp light fingers over his collarbone, and how he "ladored,"he said, the dark aroma of her hair blending with crushed lily stalks, Turkish cigarettes and the lassitude that comes from "lass." "No, no, don't," she said, I must wash, quick-quick, Ada must wash; but for yet another immortal moment they stood embraced in the hushed avenue, enjoying as they had never enjoyed before, the "happy-forever" feeling at the end of never-ending fairy tales.”

“Gentle souls!You play your love on the violin. The crude ones play it on the drums violently.But can you turn yourselves inside out, like meAnd become just two lips entirely?”

“On I’ll pass,dragging my huge love behind me.On whatfeverish night, deliria-ridden,by what Goliaths was I begot – I, so bigand by no one needed?”

“There’s a monument due me by rank alreadyI’d blow the damn thing up with dynamiteSo strongly I hate every kind of dead thingSo much I adore every kind of life!”

“The love boat has crashed against the everydayYou and I, we are quitsAnd there is no use listing mutual hurts, sorrows, and pains.”