DELIVERANCE is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthern vessel to the brim. My world will tight its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple. No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight. Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.
I WOKE AND found his letter with the morning. I do not know what it says, for I cannot read. I shall leave the wise man alone with his books, I shall not trouble him, for who knows if he can read what the letter says. Let me hold it to my forehead and press it to my heart. When the night grows still and stars come out one by one I will spread it on my lap and stay silent. The rustling leaves will read it aloud to me, the rushing stream will chant it, and the seven wise stars will sing it to me from the sky. I cannot find what I seek, I cannot understand what I would lean but this unread letter has lightened my burdens and turned my though into songs.
