Do ye not comprehend that we are worms born to bring forth the angelic butterfly that flieth unto judgment without screen?

He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.

Give unto us this day the daily manna Without which, in this desert where we dwell, He must go backward who would most advance.

Your fame is as the grass, whose hue comes and goes, and His might withers it by whose power it sprang from the lap of the earth.

Here my powers rest from their high fantasy, but already I could feel my being turned- instinct and intellect balanced equally. as in a wheel whose motion nothing jars- by the Love that moves the Sun and the other stars.

If the present world go astray, the cause is in you, in you it is to be sought.

Now you know how much my love for you burns deep in me when I forget about our emptiness, and deal with shadows as with solid things.