The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Life is the gift of God, and is divine.
They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.
You would attain to the divine perfection.
Our blossoms of passion, gay and luxuriant flowers, are bright and full of fragrance, but they beguile us and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly.
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.