On a cliff, a tree stands  besides a poem .

a poem  in blossom,  spreading on your skies.

i walk from the poem's morning to evening

i step across the river to

the pathways

leading me to the poem's valley.

And on a boulder  i climb to listen to the poem's silence.

 i witness

the  flower speaks to  pebbles.

And on the wind floats a feather .

and i go with these poems where they are going.

And at the end of today i rejoice

i weave from my night born longings

splenderous spectrums of love.

But my Love poem -- will always be You.

Open this Silence
with a murmur.



My skin cannot find
where its pains have hidden.

Somewhere I felt it 

i feel it.




These lips do not know why

hardening words build
their nests in the very places they rejoiced.

What would the sun be without its light.


What would my heart be without its rivers

i've gathered the stones by the banks of my heart












With every stone that spoke to me
i have erected 
my temple

Here is the architecture of my torments.
My love, My life,

and i've put into it everything that i could'nt say.