I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside.

I'm in love! Your advice, what are they? Love has poisoned me! Your remedies, what are they? I hear them shout: "fast, Bind him feet!" But if my heart that has gone mad! Those strings on my feet What is the point?

Oh lovers, where are you going? Who are you looking for? Your beloved is right here.

Except for Love, nothing you see will remain forever.

You're water. We're the millstone. You're wind. We're dust blown up into shapes. You're spirit. We're the opening and closing of our hands. You're the clarity. We're the language that tries to say it. You're joy. We're all the different kinds of laughing.

This is not a day for asking questions, not a day on any calendar. This day is conscious of itself. This day is a lover, bread, and gentleness, more manifest than saying can say.

If thou has not seen the devil, look at thine own self.