On I’ll pass,
dragging my huge love behind me.
On what
feverish night, deliria-ridden,
by what Goliaths was I begot –
I, so big
and by no one needed?

“A line is a fuse that's lit.The line smolders, the rhyme explodes—and by a stan…”

“Ведь для себя не важнои то, что бронзовый,и то, что сердце - холодной железкою.…”

“Vorrei essere tagliente come un eccomi”

“There’s no grandfatherly fondness in me,There are no gray hairs in my soul!Shak…”