Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.

To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into light.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

In an endless silence even screams sound silent.

In a real poem a sound does not swallow a letter, but a letter swallows a sound.