We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees.
Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples.
"What language is thine, O sea?"
"The language of eternal question?"
"What language is thy answer, O sky?"
"The language of eternal silence."
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you!
The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night~~it is great.
Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.
Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.
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