Thoughts pass in my mind like flocks of ducks in the sky.
I hear the voice of their wings.
The canal loves to think that rivers exist solely to supply it with water.
The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs.
That which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its entrance?
Thought feeds itself with its own words and grows.
I have dipped the vessel of my heart into this silent hour; it has filled with love.
Either you have work or you have not. When you have to say, “Let us do something,” then begins mischief.
The sunflower blushed to own the nameless flower as her kin.
The sun rose and smiled on it, saying, “Are you well, my darling?”
“Who drives me forward like fate?”
“The Myself striding on my back.”
The clouds fill the watercups of the river, hiding themselves in the distant hills.
I spill water from my water jar as I walk on my way,
Very little remains for my home.
The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence.
Your smile was the flowers of your own fields, your talk was the rustle of your own mountain pines, but your heart was the woman that we all know.
It is the little things that I leave behind for my loved ones,—great things are for everyone.
Woman, thou hast encircled the world’s heart with the depth of thy tears as the sea has the earth.
The sunshine greets me with a smile.
The rain, his sad sister, talks to me
My flower of the day dropped its petals forgotten.
In the evening it ripens into a golden fruit of memory.
I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.
The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it.
He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good.
I am the autumn cloud, empty of rain, see my fulness in the field of ripened rice.
They hated and killed and men praised them.
But God in shame hastens to hide its memory under the green grass.
Toes are the fingers that have forsaken their past.
Darkness travels towards light, but blindness towards death.
The pet dog suspects the universe for scheming to take its place.
Sit still my heart, do not raise your dust.
Let the world find its way to you.
The bow whispers to the arrow before it speeds forth—”Your freedom is mine.”
Woman, in your laughter you have the music of the fountain of life.
A mind all logic is like a knife all blade.
It makes the hand bleed that uses it.
God loves man’s lamp lights better than his own great stars.
This world is the world of wild storms kept tame with the music of beauty.
“My heart is like the golden casket of thy kiss,” said the sunset cloud to the sun.
Photo credits: wall paper 2 you