My sleeves move again in dances
True beauty is something that attacks
Someone, somewhere, had tied up the darkness
An ugliness unfurled in the moonlight
The highest point at which human life and art meet is in the ordinary
When silence is prolonged
Perfect purity is possible if
In making for ourselves a place to live
If you fail to come, Must I lie alone
Since first they first flowered, The mountain cherries
Here it is, yes here, Where these set forth and those return
Worn out with living, I had thought this mountain village To be a safe retreat
O winds of heaven Blow a barrier of clouds across the path By which they came
Remember well! Whose promises of love were they That bring my end?
My love for you Is as unvarying in its color
