THE SHY shadow in the garden
loves the sun in silence,
Flowers guess the secret, and smile,
while the leaves whisper.

YOU HAVE taken a bath in the dark sea. You are once again veiled in a bride's robe, and through death's arch you come back to repeat our wedding in the soul.
        Neither lute nor drum is struck, no crowd has gathered, not a wreath is hung on the gate.
        Your unuttered words meet mine in a ritual unillumined by lamps.

SHE WENT away when the night was about to wane.
        My mind tried to console me by saying, 'All is vanity.'
        I felt angry and said, 'That unopened letter with her name on it, and this palm-leaf fan bordered with red silk by her own hands, are they not real?'
        The day passed, and my friend came and said to me, 'Whatever is good is true, and can never perish.'
        'How do you know?' I asked impatiently; 'was not this body good which is now lost to the world?'
As a fretful child hurting its own mother, I tried to wreck all the shelters that ever I had, in and about me, and cried, 'This world is treacherous.'
        Suddenly I felt a voice saying-'Ungrateful!'
I looked out of the window, and a reproach seemed to come from the star-sprinkled night,-'You pour out into the void of my absence your faith in the truth that I came!'