THE SUN SHINES, the rain pours down in showers, the leaves glisten in the bamboo grove, the smell of the newly tilled earth fills the air. Our hands are strong, our hearts glad, as we toil from morning till night to plough the land. The spirit of a poet dances in swaying cadence along the meadows, writing its verses of green lines, spreading ripples of thrill through the ripening rice field. The Earth's heart is joyous in the sunny October hours, in the cloudless nights of the full moon, as we toil from morning till night to plough the land.
THE OVERFLOWING bounty of thy grace comes down from the heaven to seek my soul only, wherein it can contain itself. The light that is rained from the sun and stars is fulfilled when it reaches my life. The colour is like sleep that clings, to the flower which waits for the touch of my mind to be awakened. The low that tunes the strings of existence breaks out in music when my heart is won.
