Consumed by the agony of remembrance The remembrance of night's festive company The one remaining candle flickers and dies.

Love demands patience, desire is restless; What color shall I paint the heart, until you savage it? You shall not ignore me when the time comes, I know, but I may turn to dust before the news reaches you.

The world is a playground -Indian

Lest we forget: It is easy to be human, very hard to be humane

If there is a knower of tongues here, fetch him; There's a stranger in the city And he has many things to say.

Whereas it is difficult for everything to work out easily, A man cannot even afford to be a human

He gave me heaven and earth, and assumed I'd be satisfied; Actually I was too embarrassed to argue. The spiritual seekers are tired, two or three at each stage of the path. The rest who have given up never knew your address at all. There are so many in this gathering who wish the candle well. But if the being of the candle is melting, what can the sorrow-sharers do?