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