CHILD, THOU, bringest to my heart the babble of the wind and the water, the flowers' speechless secrets, the clouds' dreams, the mute gaze of wonder of the morning sky.
I.82. pani vic min piyasi I LAUGH WHEN I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty: You do not see that the Real is in your home, and you wander from forest to forest listlessly! Here is the truth! Go where you will, to Benares or to Mathura; if you do not find your soul, the world is unreal to you.