Drum sound rises on the air, its throb, my heart. A voice inside the beat says, "I know you're tired, but come. This is the way.
You must ask for what you really want. / Don't go back to sleep. / The door is round and open. / Don't go back to sleep.
If you find the mirror of the heart dull, the rust has not been cleared from its face.
Love’s secret is always lifting its head out from under the covers, “Here I am!”
I am a child whose teacher is LOVE surely my master won't let me grow to be a fool.
Finding faults is for those with tired minds.