“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.”

“There’s no grandfatherly fondness in me,There are no gray hairs in my soul!Shaking the world with my voice and grinning,I pass you by, - handsome,Twentytwoyearold.”

“Past one o’clock. You must have gone to bed.The Milky Way streams silver through the night. I’m in no hurry; with lightning telegramsI have no cause to wake or trouble you. And, as they say, the incident is closed.Love’s boat has smashed against the daily grind. Now you and I are quits. Why bother thenTo balance mutual sorrows, pains, and hurts. Behold what quiet settles on the world. Night wraps the sky in tribute from the stars.In hours like these, one rises to address The ages, history, and all creation.”

“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?”

“In spite of everything I loved you, and will go on loving you―on my knees, with my shoulders drawn back, showing my heels to the headsman and straining my goose neck―even then. And afterwards―perhaps most of all afterwards―I shall love you, and one day we shall have a real, all-embracing explanation, and then perhaps we shall somehow fit together, you and I, and turn ourselves in such a way that we form one pattern, and solve the puzzle: draw a line from point A to point B... without looking, or, without lifting the pencil... or in some other way... we shall connect the points, draw the line, and you and I shall form that unique design for which I yearn. If they do this kind of thing to me every morning, they will get me trained and I shall become quite wooden.”

“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!”

“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?”