I SHALL DIE again and again to know that life is inexhaustible.

WITH HIS morning songs he knocks at our door bringing his greetings of sunrise.
With him we take our cattle to the fields and play our flute in the shade.
We lose him to find him again and again in the market crowd.
In the busy hour of the day we come upon him of a sudden, sitting on the wayside grass.
We march when he beats his drum,
We dance when he sings.
We stake our joys and sorrows to play his game to the end
He stands at the helm of our boat,
With him we rock on the perilous waves.
For him we light our lamp and wait when our day is done.

ALL FRUITLESS is the cry,
All vain this burning fire of desire.
The sun goes down to his rest.
There is gloom in the forest and glamour in the sky.
With downcast look and lingering steps
The evening star conies in the wake of departing day
And the breath of the twilight is deep with the fulness of a farewell feeling.
I clasp both thine hands in mine,
and keep thine eyes prisoner with my hungry eyes;
Seeing and crying. Where art thou,
Where, O, where!
Where is the immortal flame hidden in the depth of thee!
As in the solitary star of the dark evening sky
The light of heaven, with its immense mystery, is quivering,
In thine eyes, in the depth of their darkness
There shines a soul-beam tremulous with a wide mystery.
Speechless I gaze upon it.
And I plunge with all my heart
Into the deep of a fathomless longing:
I lose myself.