The Gates Made Of Light Swing Open.

We Are As Pieces Of Chess Engaged In Victory And Defeat!

When The Rose Is Gone And The Garden Faded You Will No Longer Hear The Nightingale's Song. The Beloved Is All; The Lover Just A Veil. The Beloved Is Living; The Lover A Dead Thing. If Love Withholds Its Strengthening Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Wings. How Will I Be Awake And Aware If The Light Of The Beloved Is Absent? Love Wills That This Word Be Brought Forth.

In Your Beauty, How To Make Poems.

Criticism Polishes My Mirror.

Flattery's Fire Is Hidden. Its Sweet Taste Is Apparent, But The Smoke Is Bound To Come Out At Last.