bride's robe, and through death's arch you come back to repeat our wedding
in the soul.

Neither lute nor drum is struck, no crowd has gathered, not a wreath is
hung on the gate.

Your unuttered words meet mine in a ritual unillumined by lamps.



27


I was walking along a path overgrown with grass, when suddenly I heard from
some one behind, "See if you know me?"

I turned round and looked at her and said, "I cannot remember your name."

She said, "I am that first great Sorrow whom you met when you were young."

Her eyes looked like a morning whose dew is still in the air.

I stood silent for some time till I said, "Have you lost all the great
burden of your tears?"

She smiled and said nothing. I felt that her tears had had time to learn
the language of smiles.

"Once you said," she whispered, "that you would cherish your grief for
ever."