WHEN MY first early songs woke in my heart I thought they were the playmates of the morning flowers. When they shook their wings and flew into the wilderness it seemed to me that they had the spirit of the summer which comes down with a sudden thunder roar to spend its all in laughter. I thought that they had the mad call of the storm to rush and lose their way beyond the sunset land. But now when in the evening light I see the blue line of the shore, I know my songs are the boat that has brought me to the harbour across the wild sea.
I LOVED THE sandy bank where, in the lonely pools, ducks clamoured and turtles basked in the sun; where, with evening, stray fishing-boats took shelter in the shadow by the tall grass. You loved the wooded bank where shadows were gathered in the arms of the bamboo thickets; where women came with their vessels through the winding lane. The same river flowed between us, singing the same song to both its banks. I listened to it, lying alone on the sand under the stars; and you listened sitting by the edge of the slope in the early morning light. Only the words I heard from it you did not know and the secret it spoke to you was a mystery for ever to me.
WE TWO LAY sunk in the dusk of dreams; the time of awakening has come waiting for the last word from you. Turn your face to me and with a tear-dimmed glance make the sorrow of parting ever beautiful. The morning will appear with its early star on the far-distant sky of loneliness. The pain of this farewell night has been captured in my vina-strings, the lost glory of love will remain woven in my visions. Open with your own hands the door towards final separation.
