A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.
He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.
最终，我们都被自己的选择所定义。
O poeta é um fingidor. Finge tão completamente que chega a fingir que é dor a dor que deveras sente.
诗人是个伪装者。他伪装得如此彻底，以至于假装成他真正感受到的痛苦。