I CANNOT remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to hum while rocking my cradle.
I cannot remember my mother,
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the temple comes to me as the
scent of my mother.
I cannot remember my mother,
only when from my bedroom window I send my eyes into the blue of
the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

THOSE WHO have everything but thee, my God, laugh at those who have nothing but thyself.

YOU WERE IN THE centre of my heart, therefore when my heart wandered she never found you; you hid yourself from my loves and hopes till the last, for you were always in them.
You were the inmost joy in the play of my youth, and when I was too busy with the play the joy was passed by.
You sang to me in the ecstasies of my life and I forgot to sing to you.