“My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.”

“These paper boats of mine are meant to dance on the ripples of hours, and not reach any destination.”

“I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market,my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream andall the ways were well known to me. One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy inthe fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earthheaved with the mirth of ripening rice. Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed tokiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out ofmist. I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from thepath, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flowerI had only known in bud. My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairylandof things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path thatmorning, and found my eternal childhood.”

“Let my thoughts come to you, when I am gone, like the afterglow of sunset at the margin of starry silence.”

“I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.That is why it is so late and why I have been guilty of such omissions.They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast; but Ievade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up atlast into his hands.People blame me and call me heedless; I doubt not they are rightin their blame.The market day is over and work is all done for the busy. Thosewho came to call me in vain have gone back in anger. I am onlywaiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.”

“WHEN I GO ALONE AT NIGHTWHEN I go alone at night to my love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind does not stir, the houses on both sides of the street stand silent.It is my own anklets that grow loud at every step and I am ashamed. When I sit on my balcony and listen for his footsteps, leaves do not rustle on the trees, and the water is still in the river like the sword on the knees of a sentry fallen asleep.It is my own heart that beats wildly -- I do not know how to quiet it. When my love comes and sits by my side, when my body trembles and my eyelids droop, the night darkens, the wind blows out the lamp, and the clouds draw veils over the stars.It is the jewel at my own breast that shines and gives light. I do not know how to hide it.”

“The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.”