the pebbles into
perfection.

127
Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave.
The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.

128
To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the
complete truth.

129
Asks the Possible to the Impossible, "Where is your dwelling
place?"

"In the dreams of the impotent," comes the answer.

130
If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.

131
I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of heart,--I
cannot see them.

132
Leisure in its activity is work.
The stillness of the sea stirs in waves.

133
The leaf becomes flower when it loves.
The flower becomes fruit when it worships.

134
The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the
branches fruitful.

135
This rainy evening the wind is restless.
I look at the swaying branches and ponder over the greatness of
all things.

136
Storm of midnight, like a giant child awakened in the untimely
dark, has begun to play and shout.

137
Thou raisest thy waves vainly to follow thy lover. O sea, thou
lonely bride of the storm.

138
"I am ashamed of my emptiness," said the Word to the Work.
"I know how poor I am when I see you," said the Work to the Word.

139
Time is the wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes
it mere change and no wealth.

140
Truth in her dress finds facts too tight.
In fiction she moves with ease.

141
When I travelled to here and to there, I was tired of thee, O
Road, but now when thou leadest me to everywhere I am wedded to
thee in love.

142
Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my
life through the dark unknown.

143
Woman, with the grace of your fingers you touched my things and
order came out like music.

144
One sad voice has its nest among the ruins of the years.
It sings to me in the night,--"I loved you."

145
The flaming fire warns me off by its own glow.
Save me from the dying embers hidden under ashes.

146
I have my stars in the sky,
But oh for my little lamp unlit in my house.

147
The dust of the dead words clings to thee.
Wash thy soul with silence.

148
Gaps are left in life through which comes the sad music of death.

149
The world has opened its heart of light in the morning.
Come out, my heart, with thy love to meet it.

150
My thoughts shimmer with these shimmering leaves and my heart
sings with the touch of this sunlight; my life is glad to