WHEN IN THE depth of the night in the phantasmal light of the sick-bed appears your wakeful presence, it seems to me that the countless suns and stars have guaranteed my little life: then I know that you will leave me and the fear spreads from sky to sky, the fear of the terrible indifference of the All.
THE DAY IS dim with rain. Angry lightnings glance through the tattered cloud-veils. And the forest is like a caged lion shaking its mane in despair. On such a day amidst the winds beating their wings, let me find my peace in thy presence, For the sorrowing sky has shadowed my solitude, to deepen the meaning of thy touch about my heart.
