THE FERRY-BOAT plies between the two villages facing each other across the narrow stream. The water is neither wide nor deep-a mere break in the path that enhances the small adventures of daily life, like a break in the words of a song across which the tune gleefully streams. While the towers of wealth rise high and crash to ruin, these villages talk to each other across the garrulous stream, and the ferry-boat plies between them, age after age, from seed-time to harvest.
I.52. khasm na cinhai bawari O MAN, IF thou dost not know thine own Lord, whereof art thou so proud? Put thy cleverness away: mere words shall never unite thee to Him. Do not deceive thyself with the witness of the Scriptures: Love is something other than this, and he who has sought it truly has found it.