I lose faith in mathematics, logical and rigid. What with those that even zero doesn’t accept?
While gazing at myself from yourself, I was beautiful.
Nothing is made, nothing disappears. The same changes, at the same places, never stopping.
I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides.
He will understand when it is too late that it is easier to love.
What you gain here, you lose on the other side.
In greatness, life and death merge.
Long ago we conquered our passions looking at ourselves in the mirror of eternity.
We don’t know anything about silent sages, buried knowledge, the eye of the mute poet, serene seers, yet how many talkative destroyers, prophets and ideologues, teachers and beautifiers there are on the other side.
They are both spectacular, Life and death.
Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.
Wherever I go, I run into myself.
One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.
I travel, always arriving in the same place.
My mathematics is simple: one plus one = one.
I enjoy it when the world smiles; the more smiles, the warmer I am.
Through everything I have passed but nowhere I have been.
And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.
