"Exiles are we, we're exiles born. The faraway, language of the desert,
language of the ocean, language of the sky,
also of the unfathomable worlds that lie between the apple and the eye,
these are the only words we learn to say.
Each morning we devour the unknown.
Each day we find, and take,
and spill or spend and lose.
A sunflower splendor
of which none knows the source."

---A Letter From Li-Po, by Conrad Aiken