Here Pity Only Lives When It Is

Now You Know How Much My Love For You Burns Deep In Me When I Forget About Our Emptiness, And Deal With Shadows As With Solid Things.

The More A Thing Is Perfect, The More It Feels Pleasure And Likewise Pain.

Of My Sowing Such Straw I Reap. O Human Folk, Why Set The Heart There Where Exclusion Of Partnership Is Necessary

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.

No Sadness Is Greater Than In Misery To Rehearse Memories Of Joy.