Plant the love of the holy ones within your spirit; don't give your heart to anything, but the love of those whose hearts are glad.
This is how it always is when I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.
I'm dominated by Love, By my passion of love for Love
And even if this world burns up hidden harps will still play here.
I am so mad with love that mad men say to me - be still!
Faith in the king comes easily in lovely times, but be faithful now and endure, pale lover.