Life moves out of a red flare of dreams Into a common light of common hours, Until old age brings the red flare again.

When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, suddenly I meet your face.

Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.

Life moves out of a red flare of dreams Into a common light of common hours, Until old age brings the red flare again.

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling flowers they bear. The changing colours of its fruit Have dowered the stars with metry light; The surety of its hidden root Has planted quiet in the night; The shaking of its leafy head Has given the waves their melody, And made my lips and music wed, Murmuring a wizard song for thee.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream / His mind moves upon silence.

And the merry love the fiddle, and the merry love to dance.