I felt that very thing most notably in the last poem, "My Soul." There, something of your inner self wants to rise to expression. Yet they possess a quiet and hidden inclination to reveal something personal. Having said these things at the outset, I now dare tell you only this: that your verses do not as yet have an individual style.
Even more inexpressible are works of art mysterious entities they are, whose lives, compared to our fleeting ones, endure. Most happenings are beyond expression they exist where a word has never intruded. Things are not as easily understood nor as expressible as people usually would like us to believe. They always result in more or less unfortunate misunderstandings. There is nothing that manages to influence a work of art less than critical words. I cannot comment on the style of your verses critical intent is too far removed from my nature.
I want to thank you for the deep and loving trust it revealed. Your letter reached me just a few days ago.
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