This Dance Is The Joy Of Existence.

Lovers O Lovers, Lovers It Is Time To Set Out From The World. I Hear A Drum In My Soul's Ear Coming From The Depths Of The Stars. Our Camel Driver Is At Work; The Caravan Is Being Readied. He Asks That We Forgive Him For The Disturbance He Has Caused Us, He Asks Why We Travellers Are Asleep. Everywhere The Murmur Of Departure; The Stars, Like Candles Thrust At Us From Behind Blue Veils, And As If To Make The Invisible Plain, A Wondrous People Have Come Forth.

What Hurts The Soul? To Live Without Tasting The Water Of Its Own Essence.

What I Most Want Is To Spring Out Of This Personality, Then To Sit Apart From That Leaping. I've Lived Too Long Where I Can Be Reached.

My Heart Rushes Into The Garden, Joyfully Tasting All The Delights. But Reason Frowns, Disapproving Of The Heart's Bad Manners.

Snake's Poison Is Life To The Snake; It Is In Relation To Man That It Means "death.