When my sorrow was born i nursed it with care, and watched over it with loving tenderness.
And my sorrow grew like all living things,strong and beautiful and full of wondrous delights.
And we loved one another, my sorrow and i, and we loved the world about us; for sorrow had a kindly and mind was kindly with sorrow.
And when we conversed, my sorrow and i our days were winged and our nights were girdled with dreams; fro sorrow had an eloquent tongue and mine was eloquent with sorrow.
And we sang together my sorrow and i our neighbours sat at their windows and listened for our songs were deep as the sea and our melodies were full of strange memories.
And when we walked together my sorrow and i people gazed at us with gently eyes and whispered in words of exceeding sweetness.And there were those who looked with envy upon up, for sorrow was a noble thing and i was proud with sorrow.
But my sorrow died like all living things and alone i an left to muse and ponder.
And now when i speak my words fall heavily upon my ears.
And when i sing my song my neighbours come not to listen.
And when i walk the streets on one looks at me.
Only in my sleep i hear voices saying in pity "see, there lies the man whose sorrow is dead, "

Once there lived in the ancient city of India two learned men who hated and belittled each other's learning. For one of them denied the existence of the goes and the other was a believes.
One day the two met in the market place, and amidst their followers they began to dispute and to argue about the existence of the non existence of the gods. And after hours of convention they parted.
That evening the unbeliever went to the temple and prostrated himself before the clubs and prayed the goes to forgive his wayward past.
And the same the other learned mao, he min had upheld the gods, burnme his sacred books. For he had become an unbeliever.

" DEFEAT"
defeat,my defeat,my solitude and my aloofness;
you are dearer to methan a thousand triumphs.
And sweeter to my heart than all world -glory.
Defeat, my defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
through you i know that i an yet young and swift of foot
and not to be trapped by withering laurels.
And in you i have found aloofness
and the joy of being shunned and scorned.
Defeat, my defeat, my shining sword and shield,
in your eyes i have read
that to be enthroned is to be enslaved,
and to be understood is to be levelled down,
and to be grasped is but to reach one's fulness
and like a rise fruit to fall and be consumed.
Defeat, my defeat, my bold companion,
you shall hear my song and my cries and my silences,
and none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
and urging to seas,
and of mountains that burn in the night,
and you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.
Defeat, my defeat,my deathless courage,
you and i shall laugh together with the storm,
and together we shall dig graves for all that die in us,
and we shall stand in the sun with a will,
and we shall be dangerous.

FINDING GOD.
Two men were walking in the valley, and one man pointed with his finger toward the mountain side, and said, "see you that hermitage? There lives a man who has long divorced the world. He seeks but after God,and naught else upon his earth."
And the other man said, "he shall not find God until he leaves his hermitage and the aloneness of his hermitage and returns to our world, to share our joy and pain and to participate in our marriage and to weep with those who weep around the coffins of our dead
And the othe man was convinced in his heart though in spite of his conviction he answered, i agree with all that you say yet i believe the hermit is a good man.And may it not well be that one good man by his absence does better than the seeming goodness of these many men?

Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face
but you bra the life you are the face
beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror
but you are eternity you are the mirror

For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life
and to the flower a bee is a messenger of love
And to both,bee and flower the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy.

Pleassure is a freedom song. But it is not freedom.it is the blossoming of your desires.but it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height. But it is not the deep nor the high. It is the caged taking wing. But it is not space encompassed.Ay in very truth pleassure is a freedom song.