is not yours, my patient and dusky mother dust!
You toil to fill the mouths of your children, but food is scarce.
The gift of gladness that you have for us is never perfect.
The toys that you make for your children are fragile.
You cannot satisfy all our hungry hopes, but should I desert you
for that?
Your smile which is shadowed with pain is sweet to my eyes.
Your love which knows not fulfilment is dear to my heart.
From your breast you have fed us with life but not immortality,
that is why your eyes are ever wakeful.
For ages you are working with colour and song, yet your heaven is
not built, but only its sad suggestion.
Over your creations of beauty there is the mist of tears.
I will pour my songs into your mute heart, and my love into your
love.
I will worship you with labour.
I have seen your tender face and I love your mournful dust,
Mother Earth.

74

In the world's audience hall, the simple blade of grass sits on
the same carpet with the sunbeam and the stars of midnight.
Thus my songs share their seats in the heart of the world with
the music of the clouds and forests.
But, you man of riches, your wealth has no part in the simple
grandeur of the sun's glad gold and the mellow gleam of the
musing moon.
The blessing of all-embracing sky is not shed upon it.
And when death appears, it pales and withers and crumbles into
dust.

75

At midnight the would-be ascetic announced:
"This is the time to give up my home and seek for God. Ah, who
has held me so long in delusion here?"
God whispered, "I," but the ears of the man were stopped.
With a baby asleep at her breast lay his wife, peacefully
sleeping on one side of the bed.
The man said, "Who are ye that have fooled me so long?"
The voice said again, "They are God," but he heard it not.
The baby cried out in its dream, nestling close to its mother.
God commanded, "Stop, fool, leave not thy home," but still he
heard not.
God sighed and complained, "Why does my servant wander to seek
me, forsaking me?"

76

The fair was on before the temple. It had rained from the early
morning and the day came to its end.
Brighter than all the gladness of the crowd was the bright smile
of a girl who bought for a farthing a whistle of palm leaf.
The shrill joy of that whistle floated above all laughter and
noise.
An endless throng of people came and jostled togethe