In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.
All my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.
My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple.
In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words.
When it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark.
"Take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colors, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders."
I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun ever-glorious!
I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart.
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies. I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.