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.