And As A Single Leaf Turns Not

This For God And This For Myself; This For My Soul, And This Other For My Body?

Sorrow Is Too Great To Exist In Small Hearts.

My Loneliness Was Born When Men Praised My Talkative Faults And Blamed My Silent Virtues.

When You Were A Wandering Desire In The Mist, I Too Was There, A Wandering Desire. Then We Sought One Another, And Out Of Our Eagerness Dreams Were Born. And Dreams Were Time Limitless, And Dreams Were Space Without Measure.

Every Man Loves Two Women;the One Is The Creation Of His Imagination And The Other Is Not Yet Born