(Paperback)

Three Years the land, extending itself, makes one turn after another, spitting village after village, till it gives its cold light to the gaping grave. I, a blunt knife, hammered on an anvil have been hardened-for three years three years! Till a miracle happens- will I be able to return from it

(Paperback)

on a certain afternoon I, on a sudden, actually smelt something like a rat from the fifth collection of poetry by a poet I had been passionately in love with on a certain afternoon a mass poetry magazine, just bought was ripped to pieces by me and a newspaper, known to all, that had just arrived was carried by me to the toilet...

(Paperback)

perhaps I am willing to be with you every day raising ducks. my heart, for the rest of my life is a window pane cleaned till it shines. early in the morning we go somewhere near to the simple-minded creek the sun spreading our skins with a deep glaze and the healthy grass reaching over our knees...