THOUGH I know, my friend, that we are different my mind refuses to own it. For we two woke up in the same sleepless night while the birds sang, and the same spell of the spring entered our hearts. Though your face is towards the light and mine in the shade the delight of our meeting is sweet and secret, for the flood of youth in its eddying dance has drawn us close. With your glory and grace you conquer the world, my face is pale. But a magnanimous breath of life has carried me to your side and the dark line of our difference is aglow with the radiance of a dawn.