Two such as you with such a master speed,Cannot be parted nor be swept away.

Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep?

The child ever dwells in the mystery of ageless time, unobscured by the dust of history.

In the mountain, stillness surges up to explore its own height. In the lake, movement stands still to contemplate its own depth.

The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day.

Perhaps the crescent moon smiles in doubt at being told that it is a fragment awaiting perfection.