Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart
the music of the ripples.
What language is thine, O sea?
The language of eternal question.
What language is thy answer, O sky?
The language of eternal silence.
Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes
love to you.
The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great.
Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning.
Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high.
I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by st
ops for a moment, nods to me and goes.
There little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their
whisper of joy in my mind
What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.
My wishes are fools, they shout across thy song, my Master.
Let me but listen.
I cannot choose the best.
The best chooses me .
这到底是什么意思
我们班女孩发我的。。
我在这问下 ，。！
