THE POET'S MIND floats and dances on the waves of life amidst the voices of wind and water.
Now when the sun has set and the darkened sky draws down upon the
sea like drooping lashes upon a weary eye it is time to take away his pen, and let his thoughts sink into the bottom of the deep amid the eternal secret of that silence.

SHE IS NEAR TO my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with serene abandonment.
My songs are one with my love, like the murmur of a stream, that sings with all its waves and currents.

BE READY TO launch forth, my heart I and let those linger who must.
For your name has been called in the morning sky.
Wait for none!
The desire of the bud is for the night and dew, but the blown flower cries for the freedom of light.
Burst your sheath, my heart, and come forth!