And That Which Sings And Contemplates In

You Often Say ; I Would Give , But Only To The Deserving, The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So , Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. Surely He Who Is Worthy To Receive His Days And Nights Is Worthy Of All Else From You. And He Who Has Deserved To Drink From The Ocean Of Life Deserves To Fill His Cup From Your Little Stream. See First That Youyourself Deserve To Be A Giver , And An Insturument Of Giving. For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You , Who Deem Yourself A Giver , Is But A Witness.

In The Depth Of My Soul There Is A Wordless Song.

The Philosopher's Soul Dwells In His Head, The Poet's Soul Is In His Heart; The Singer's Soul Lingers About His Throat, But The Soul Of The Dancer Abides In All Her Body.

Of The Good In You I Can Speak, But Not Of The Evil. For What Is Evil But Good Tortured By Its Own Hunger And Thirst? Verily When Good Is Hungry It Seeks Food Even In Dark Caves, And When It Thirsts It Drinks Even Of Dead Waters.

And Forget Not That The Earth Delights To Feel Your Bare Feet And The Winds Long To Play With Your Hair.