POWER SAID to the world, 'You are mine.'
The world kept it prisoner on her throne.
Love said to the world, 'I am thine.'
The world gave it the freedom of her house.

YOU HAVE drunk the draught of songs
that I poured for you,
and accepted the garland of my woven dreams.
My heart straying in the wilderness
was ever touched by the pain that was your own touch.
When my days are done, my leave-taking hushed
in a final silence,
my voice will linger in the autumn light
and rain-laden clouds
with the message that we had met.

MOTHER, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow.
The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet, but mine will hang upon thy breast.
Wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them. But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own, and when I bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace.