All is done and finished in the eternal Heaven.
But earth's flowers of illusion are kept eternally fresh by
death.
Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice.
69
I hunt for the golden stag.
You may smile, my friends, but I pursue the vision that eludes
me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands,
because I am hunting for the golden stag.
You come and buy in the market and go back to your homes laden
with goods, but the spell of the homeless winds has touched me
I know not when and where.
I have no care in my heart; all my belongings I have left far
behind me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands--
because I am hunting for the golden stag.
70
I remember a day in my childhood I floated a paper boat in the
ditch.
It was a wet day of July; I was alone and happy over my play.
I floated my paper boat in the ditch.
Suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and
rain poured in torrents.
Rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my
boat.
Bitterly I thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to
spoil my happiness; all its malice was against me.
The cloudy day of July is long today, and I have been musing over
all those games in life wherein I was loser.
I was blaming my fate for the many tricks it played on me, when
suddenly I remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch.
71
The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the
river-bank.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50