WHEN BELLS sounded in your temple in the morning, men and women
hastened down the woodland path with their offerings of fresh flowers.
But I lay on the grass in the shade and let them pass by.
I think it was well that I was idle, for then my flowers were in bud.
At the end of the day they have bloomed, and I go to my evening
worship.

LET THY LOVE play upon my voice and rest on my silence.
Let it pass through my heart into all my movements.
Let thy love like stars shine in the darkness of my sleep and dawn in my awakening.
Let it burn in the flame of my desires
And flow in all currents of my own love.
Let me carry thy love in my life as a harp does its music, and give it back to thee at last with my life.

MY HEART, like a peacock on a rainy day,
spreads its plumes tinged with rapturous colours of thoughts,
and in its ecstasy seeks some vision in the sky,
with a longing for one whom it does not know.
My heart dances.
The clouds rumble from sky to sky
the shower sweeps horizons,
the doves shiver in silence in their nests,
the frogs croak in the flooded fields,
and the clouds rumble.
O who is she on the king's tower
that has loosened the braid of her dark hair,
has drawn over her breasts the blue veil?
She wildly starts and runs in the sudden flashes of lightning
and lets the dark hair dance on her bosom.
Ah my heart dances like a peacock,
the rain patters on the new leaves of summer,
the tremor of the crickets' chirp troubles the shade of the tree,
the river overflows its bank washing the village meadows.
My heart dances.