Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward

I Could Not Accept From Wisdom What Love Taught, Woman Is Perfect.

No One Knows The Colour Of A Flower Till It Is Broken.

Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward Me To Learn Of Love.

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

O Beautiful White Land, Olives And Wild Anemone And Violet Mingled Among The Shale, And Purple Wings Of Little Winter-butterflies Say, Here Psyche, The Soul, Lies.