65
The blue of the sky longs for the earth's green,
the wind between them sighs, "Alas.“
66
Day's pain muffled by its own glare,
burns among stars in the night.
67
The stars crowd round the virgin night
in silent awe at her loneliness
that can never be touched.
68
The cloud gives all its gold
to the departing sun
and greets the rising moon
with only a pale smile.
69
He who does good comes to the temple gate,
he who loves reaches the shrine.
70
Flower, have pity for the worm,
it is not a bee,
its love is a blunder and a burden.
71
With the ruins of terror's triumph
children build their doll's house.
72
The lamp waits through the long day of neglect
for the flame's kiss in the night.