VII

Alas, I cannot stay in the house, and home has become no home to
me, for the eternal Stranger calls, he is going along the road.

The sound of his footfall knocks at my breast; it pains me!

The wind is up, the sea is moaning. I leave all my cares and
doubts to follow the homeless tide, for the Stranger calls me, he
is going along the road.



VIII

Be ready to launch forth, my heart! and let those linger who
must.

For your name has been called in the morning sky.

Wait for none!

The desire of the bud is for the night and dew, but the blown
flower cries for the freedom of light.

Burst your sheath, my heart, and come forth!



IX