193
The mountain fir, in its rustling,
modulates the memory of its fights with the storm
into a hymn of peace.
194
God honoured me with his fight
when I was rebellious,
He ignored me when I was languid.
195
The sectarian thinks
that he has the sea
ladled into his private pond.
196
In the shady depth of life
are the lonely nests of memories
that shrink from words.
197
Let my love find its strength
in the service of day,
its peace in the union of night.
198
Life sends up in blades of grass
its silent hymn of praise
to the unnamed Light.
199
The stars of night are to me
the memorials of my day's faded flowers.
200
Open thy door to that which must go,
for the loss becomes unseemly when obstructed.