He bowed and said, "I cannot sell
this lotus."
In the hushed shade of the mango grove beyond the city wall Sud?s
stood before Lord Buddha, on whose lips sat the silence of love
and whose eyes beamed peace like the morning star of the
dew-washed autumn.
Sud?s looked in his face and put the lotus at his feet and bowed
his head to the dust.
Buddha smiled and asked, "What is your wish, my son?"
Sud?s cried, "The least touch of your feet."
XX
Make me thy poet, O Night, veiled Night!
There are some who have sat speechless for ages in thy shadow;
let me utter their songs.
Take me up on thy chariot without wheels, running noiselessly
from world to world, thou queen in the palace of time, thou
darkly beautiful!
Many a questioning mind has stealthily entered thy courtyard and
roamed through thy lampless house seeking for answers.
From many a heart, pierced with the arrow of joy from the hands
of the Unknown, have burst forth glad chants, shaking the
darkness to its foundation.
Those wakeful souls gaze in the starlight in wonder at the
treasure they have suddenly found.
Make me their poet, O Night, the poet of thy fathomless silence.
XXI
I will meet one day the Life within me, the joy that hides in my
life, though the days perplex my path with their idle dust.
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