"This love was so pure and so sad that it did not offend me."

And as they walked along, the shade was sweet. Lambs passed by. And
seeing the sadness of the poet the divine spirit had on his lips a
smile, grave and gentle like that of a dying mother. And the trembling
of his golden wings pursued the whispers of the evening.

* * * * *

Soon the stars were lighted in the silence.

And the sky resembled a father's bed surrounded by wax tapers and dumb
sorrows. And the night seemed like a great widow kneeling upon the
earth.

"Do you recognize this?" asked the angel.

The poet made no answer but knelt down.

* * * * *

Finally they reached the end of the road near the small quiet grave
overgrown with brambles, nettles, and soapwort.

And the angel said to the poet:

"I wished to show you your way. Here you will sleep, not far from the
waters. Every day they will bring you the image of your memories:
the azure of the kingfisher like your mother's eyes, the down of the