If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

We sit inert, like dead specimens of some museum, while lessons are pelted at us from on high, like hailstones on flowers.

The young student sits with his head bent over his books, and his mind straying in youth's dreamland; where prose is prowling on the desk and poetry hiding in the heart.

Let me light my lamp", says the star, "And never debate if it will help to remove the darkness

Set the bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in thesky.

Inspiration follows aspiration.

Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.