Now these are Laws of the Navy,
Unwritten and varied they be;
He has achieved success
who has lived well,
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
"There's a bloke I sometimes want to kick the worst way in the world,"
Said Bill, while from his short black pipe the dog-watch smok
When you do things from your soul, you feel a river
moving in you, a joy.
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
Will a moon so bright ever arise again? Drink a cupful of wine and ask of the sky.
A certain person came to the Friend's door
and knocked.
You who live now in this world
see so deeply within myself.
Not needing my eyes, I can see everything clearly.
Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water, and Life is alive
Why do I write today?
The beauty of
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
I am dotted silver threads dropped from heaven
By the gods. Nature then takes me, to adorn
Against rhetorical and ornate verse, There is the verse natural. Here a storm:
I'm a play that's many centuries old.
I expire and become immortal.
The Sun revolving on his axis turns,
And with creative fire intensely burns;
power and peace are implied in the songs of the disciples.
The salvation of the people of the world lies in love!
This normative hill
like all others
Are you coming, Johnnie Bowline,
Have you had your fill of fun?
I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers,
Borne by the channel of a green stream,
The world was made when a man was born,
He must taste for himself the forbidden springs;
WITHIN this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans and the unnumbered stars.
Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving." And he answered:
Le rêve pour les uns serait d'avoir des ailes,
De monter dans l'espace en poussant de grands cris,
But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again
Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng;
And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said:
A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride -
And thirst with passionate longing for the things
That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings
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