the further bank
the wicked postman
I cannot tell why this heart languishes in silence.It is for small needs it never asks,or knows or remembers.
You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.
The world has kissed my soul with its pain,asking for its return in songs.
Praise shames me,for I secretly beg for it.
Blessed is he whose fame does not outshine his truth.