34 (the rains sweep the)


THE RAINS sweep the sky from end to end.

In the wild wet wind the jasmines revel in their own perfume.

There is a secret joy in the bosom of the night, it is the joy of the veiled sky in its hidden stars, the joy of the midnight forest in its hoarded bird-songs.

Let me fill my heart with it and carry it in secret through the day.

 

 

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