[1]

To know what love is
Loving is not enough.
To know what knowledge is
Knowing is not enough.
To experience light
Looking is not enough.

One has to go to the other side
Where done things lie
One has to wake them up with a kiss
To see them reversed
Waking up drowsily.
Do the action again,
Repeat the act
Without disturbing what has been done.

Not loving hate is not love.
And ignoring ignorance is not knowledge.
Shutting eyes in darkness
Doesn’t show us light.

[3]

There is the I-I and the I-You
And I-He and I-Us.
I-You is always seen
In the other’s continuity.
I-He totally lives himself
For the distant other.
I-I remits us
To ourselves only
Like an absurd echo
That repeats in
The valley’s mirror
Where flowers just one
Named solitude.

The I-I comes and goes
Always and always
Running from itself
Towards itself in
The oscillation of an escape.
There is also a No-I
And a garden
Lacking pronouns.

There is a there is not
Or is there a there is not?

[19]

Mad is the poet
Who wants to trap love
In a net made up of words.
Later he realizes
That words are love
And it is he himself who is trapped
In the most fearful prison:
The lovely freedom
of unbinding love.

[Epilogue]

To have or not to have,
But always to have.
If between you and me there wouldn’t be this space
Where would I write my poem?