Periods' are largely an invention of the historians. The poets themselves are not conscious of living in any period and refuse to conform to the scheme.
All your life an unattainable ecstasy has hovered just beyond the grasp of your consciousness.
Consciousness is either inexplicable illusion, or else revelation.
We are born helpless. As soon as we are fully conscious we discover loneliness. We need others physically, emotionally, and intellectually. We need them if we are to know anything, even ourselves.
We are born helpless. As soon as we are fully conscious we discover loneliness...