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The wasp thinks that the honeyhive of the neighbouring bees is too small.

His neighbours ask him to build one still smaller.

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I cannot keep your waves,

Let me keep your footprints in my heart.

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The day, with the noise of this little earth, drowns the silence of all worlds.

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The song feels the infinite in the air, the picture in the earth,the poem in the air and the earth;

For its words have meaning that walks and music that soars.

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When the sun goes down to the West, the East of his morning stands before him in silence.

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Let me not put myself wrongly to my world and set it against me.

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Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.

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Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its depth of peace like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.

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Maiden, your simplicity, like the blueness of the lake, reveals your depth of truth.

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The best does not come alone.

It comes with the company of the all.

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God's right hand is gentle, but terrible is his left hand.

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My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language which my morning stars did not know.

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Night's darkness is a bag that bursts with the gold of the dawn.

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Our desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and vapours of life.

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God waits to win back his own flowers as gifts from man's hands.

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My sad thoughts tease me asking me their own names.

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The service of the fruit is precious, the service of the flower is sweet, but let my service be the service of the leaves in its shade of humble devotion.

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My heart has spread its sails to the idle winds for the shadowy island of Anywhere.

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Men are cruel, but Man is kind.

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Make me thy cup and let my fulness be for thee and for thine.

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The storm is like the cry of some god in pain whose love the earth refuses.

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The world does not leak because death is not a crack.

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Life has become richer by the love that has been lost.

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My friend, your great heart shone with the sunrise of the East like the snowy summit of a lonely hill in the dawn.

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The fountain of death makes the still water of life play.

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Those who have everything but thee, my God, laugh at those who have nothing but thyself.

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The movement of life has its rest in its own music.

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Kicks only raise dust and not crops from the earth.

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Our names are the light that glows on the sea waves at night and then dies without leaving its signature.

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Let him only see the thorns who has eyes to see the rose.

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Set the bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in the sky.

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The same lotus of our clime blooms here in the alien water with the same sweetness, under another name.

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In heart's perspective the distance looms large.

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The moon has her light all over the sky, her dark spots to herself.

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Do not say, "It is morning," and dismiss it with a mane of yesterday.

See it for the first time as a new-born child that has no name.

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Smoke boasts to the sky, and Ashes to the earth, that they are brothers to the fire.

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The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever."

The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground.

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Timid thoughts, do not be afraid of me.

I am a poet.

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The dim silence of my mind seems filled with crickets' chirp --- the grey twilight of sound.

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Rockets, your insult to the stars follows yourself back to the earth.

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Thou hast led me through my crowded travels of the day to my evening's loneliness.

I wait for its meaning through the stillness of the night.

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This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship.

In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds.

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The stream of truth flows through its channels of mistakes.

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My heart is homesick today for the one sweet hour across the sea of time.

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The bird-song is the echo of the morning light back from the earth.

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Are you too proud to kiss me?

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How may I sing to thee and worship, O Sun?

By the simple silence of thy purity,

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Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal.

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

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Let not the sword-blade mock its handle for being blunt.