I TRAVELLED the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market, my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and all the ways were well known to me. One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth heaved with the mirth of ripening rice. Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of mist. I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower I had only known in bud. My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland of things. It was the best luck of my life, that I lost my path that morning, and found my eternal childhood.
YOU SEEMED from afar titanic in your mysterious majesty of terror. With palpitating heart I stood before your presence. Your knitted brows boded ill and sudden came down the blow with a growl and a crash. My bones cracked, with bowed head I waited for the final fury to come. It came. And I wondered, could this be all of the menace? With your weapon held high in suspense you looked mightily big. To strike me you came down to where I crouched low on the ground. You suddenly became small and I stood up. From thence there was only pain for me but no fear. Great you are as death itself, but your victim is greater than death.
