"A falcon hovers at the edge of the sky. Two gulls drift slowly up the river. Vulnerable while they ride the wind, they coast and glide with ease."

"My darling son now will not leave my knee, He's scared that I will go away again."

"The ladle's cast aside, the cup not green, The stove still looks as if a fiery red. To many places, communications are broken, I sit, but cannot read my books for grief."

"The war has turned my hair white, but the wine turns it black again."

"I’m so thin, my shadow could slip through a crack in the door."