177
Truth loves its limits,
for there it meets the beautiful.
178
Between the shores of Me and Thee
there is the loud ocean, my own surging self,
which I long to cross.
179
The right to possess boasts foolishly
of its right to enjoy.
180
The rose is a great deal more
than a blushing apology for the thorn.
181
Day offers to the silence of stars
his golden lute to be tuned
for the endless life.
182
The wise know how to teach,
the fool how to smite.
183
The centre is still and silent in the heart
of an eternal dance of circles.
184
The judge thinks that he is just when he compares
the oil of another's lamp
with the light of his own.