I DIVE DOWN into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten boat. The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves. And now I am eager to die into the deathless. Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life. I shall tune it to the notes of for ever, and, when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.
ON THAT NIGHT when the storm broke open my door. I did not know that you entered my room through the ruins, For the lamp was blown out, and it became dark; I stretched my arms to the sky in search of help. I lay on the dust waiting in the tumultuous dark and I knew not that storm was your own banner. When the morning came I saw you standing upon the emptiness that was spread over my house.