Your speech is simple, my Master, but not theirs who talk of you.

I understand the voice of your stars and the silence of your
trees.

I know that my heart would open like a flower; that my life has
filled itself at a hidden fountain.

Your songs, like birds from the lonely land of snow, are winging
to build their nests in my heart against the warmth of its April,
and I am content to wait for the merry season.



XVI

They knew the way and went to seek you along the narrow lane, but
I wandered abroad into the night for I was ignorant.

I was not schooled enough to be afraid of you in the dark,
therefore I came upon your doorstep unaware.

The wise rebuked me and bade me be gone, for I had not come by
the lane.

I turned away in doubt, but you held me fast, and their scolding
became louder every day.