You are the pattern in the weaving of my existence. You are the secret code that unlocks all that is mine. You are the manner in which I dance, flying from cloud to cloud…You are the answer to all my questions, always unexpected, which raises me from one world to another.You are my sailing boat on the ocean of infinite tranquility and bliss. My most beautiful ark. Your soul has no limits, and it is in my eyes that You are endless…
And thus when I am not asking You anything then, in fact, I am asking You; And when I do not see You – I do indeed see you. And when You are silent You are speaking inside of me; and when you are asleep you are awake inside of me.....
You'll never be able to escape from your heart. So, it's better to listen to what it has to say. That way you'll never have to fear an unanticipated blow...

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow

That sorrow which obsessed me during my youth was not caused by lack of amusement, because I could have had it; neither from lack of friends, because I could have found them. That sorrow was caused by an inward ailment which made me love solitude. It killed in me the inclination for games and amusement. It removed from my shoulders the wings of youth and made me like a pong of water between mountains which reflects in its calm surface the shadows of ghosts and the colours of clouds and trees, but cannot find an outlet by which to pass singing to the sea.
 People in respectable years, likes to return in memory to the days of his youth like a stranger who longs to go back to his own country. He delights to tell stories of the past like a poet who takes pleasure in reciting his best poem. He lives spiritually in the past because the present passes swiftly, and the future seems to him an approach to the oblivion....

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