ing.

The lull in the wind threatens storm, and the lowering clouds in
the west bode no good.
The hushed water waits for the wind.
I hurry to cross the river before the night overtakes me.
O ferryman, you want your fee!
Yes, brother, I have still something left. My fate has not
cheated me of everything.

In the wayside under the tree sits the beggar. Alas, he looks at
my face with a timid hope!
He thinks I am rich with the day's profit.
Yes, brother, I have still something left. My fate has not
cheated me of everything.

The night grows dark and the road lonely. Fireflies gleam among
the leaves.
Who are you that follow me with stealthy silent steps?
Ah, I know, it is your desire to rob me of all my gains. I will
not disappoint you!
For I still have something left, and my fate has not cheated me
of everything.

At midnight I reach home. My hands are empty.
You are waiting with anxious eyes at my door, sleepless and
silent.
Like a timorous bird you fly to my breast with eager love.
Ay, ay, my God, much remains still. My fate has not cheated me
of everything.

72

With days of hard travail I raised a temple. It had no doors or
windows, its walls were thickly built with massive stones.
I forgot all else, I shunned all the world, I gazed in rapt
contemplation at the image I had set upon the altar.
It was always night inside, and lit by the lamps of perfumed oil.
The ceaseless smoke of incense wound my heart in its heavy coils.
Sleepless, I carved on the walls fantastic figures in mazy
bewildering lines--winged horses, flowers with human faces,
women with limbs like serpents.
No passage was left anywhere through which could enter the song
of birds, the murmur of leaves or hum of the busy village.
The only sound that echoed in its dark dome was that of
incantations which I chanted.
My mind became keen and still like a pointed flame, my senses
swooned in ecstasy.
I knew not how time passed till the thunderstone had struck the
temple, and a pain stung me through the heart.

The lamp looked pale and ashamed; the carvings on the walls, like
chained dreams, stared meaningless in the light as they would
fain hide themselves.
I looked at the image on the altar. I saw it smiling and alive
with the living touch of God. The night I had imprisoned had
spread its wings and vanished.

73

Infinite wealth