I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things. My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance. O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore.

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

Dark clouds become heaven's flowers when kissed by light.

Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.

Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.

Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.