Who are you, reader, reading my po
I cannot send you one single flowe
Open your doors and look abroad.
From your blossoming garden gather
In the joy of your heart may you f

If people came to know where my ki
into the air.
The walls are of white silver and
The queen lives in a palace with s
wears a jewel that cost all the we

Thou hast made me endless, such is
vessel thou emptiest again and aga
This little flute of a reed thou h
and hast breathed through it melod
At the immortal touch of thy hands

Palm-tree: single-legged giant,
topping other trees,
peering at the firmament —
It longs to pierce the black cloud
and fly away, away,

Day after day he comes and goes aw
Go, and give him a flower from my
If he asks who was it that sent it
He sits on the dust under the tree
Spread there a seat with flowers a

I am like a remnant of a cloud of
uselessly roaming in the sky, O my
Thy touch has not yet melted my va
making me one with thy light,
and thus I count months and years

I run as a musk-deer runs in the s
The night is the night of mid-May
I lose my way and I wander, I see
From my heart comes out and dances
The gleaming vision flits on.

Life is given to us,
we earn it by giving it.
Let the dead have the immortality
but the living the immortality of
Life’s errors cry for the merciful

Do not go, my love, without asking
I have watched all night, and now
I fear lest I lose you when I am
Do not go, my love, without asking
I start up and stretch my hands to

Freedom from fear is the freedom
Freedom from the burden of the age
Freedom from the shackles of slumb
Freedom from the anarchy of destin
Freedom from the insult of dwellin