Wisdom

And wisdom is a butterfly / And not a gloomy bird of prey.

El meu

El meu silenci s’escolta a tot arreu.

Sadness

Until its question hangs unanswered in the breeze./ Perhaps the sadness is a way of seeming free

De volentat

De volentat lo cor me tremolava / tot enaixí com fa fulla en arbre…

De pregunta a pregunta

Força sovint el repte és el silenci, / l’espai incert que va de vers a vers, / de pregunta a pregunta.

Make me thy lyre

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: / What if my leaves are falling like its own!

Whirling fast

Dull November brings the blast, / then the leaves are whirling fast.

Your life

your life is your life, know it while you have it