你
Though you have eyes, you still can see the beauty of the world.
My wishes are fools, they shout across thy song, my Master. Let me but listen.
The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness?
Make me thy cup, that I may hold thy wine to the brim for thee and for thine.
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you.
Night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, “I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth.”
Little grass, your steps are small, but you possess the earth beneath you.
