FILL YOUR EYES with the colours that ripple
on beauty's stream,
vain is your struggle to clutch them.
That which you chase with your desire is a shadow,
that which thrills your life-chords is music.
The wine they drink at the assembly of gods
has no body, no measure.
It is in rushing brooks,
in flowering trees,
in the smile that dances at the corner of dark eyes.
Enjoy it in freedom.

'WHO is there to take up my duties?' asked the setting sun.
'I shall do what I can, my Master,' said the earthen lamp.

DO NOT SAY, 'It is morning,' and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a new-born child that has no name.