If you see a hill of foam
It is my poetry that you see:
My poetry is a mountain
And is also a fea...

I cultivate a white rose
In July as in January
For the sincere friend
Who gives me his hand frank...

Day and night
I always dream with open eyes
And on top of the foaming waves
Of the wide turbulent...

Culture, which makes talent shine, is not completely ours either, nor can we place it solely at our ...

A genuine man goes to the roots. To be a radical is no more than that: to go to the roots....

A selfish man is a thief....

A child who does not think about what happens around him and is content with living without wonderin...

Charm is a product of the unexpected....

A grain of poetry suffices to season a century....