A butterfly’s
noises while eating something—
such quietness.
noises while eating something—
such quietness.
Art is a journey into the most unknown thing of all - oneself. Nobody knows his own frontiers… I don’t think I’d ever want to take a road if I knew where it led.
Louis Kahan
Louis Kahan
To cure fields where
We gathered greens in daylight
It rains at night.
We gathered greens in daylight
It rains at night.
Still sunk in the east
Is the sun; the field of
Wild flowers
Is the sun; the field of
Wild flowers
the winds that blow —
ask them which leaf on the tree
will be next to go
ask them which leaf on the tree
will be next to go
Very brief:
Gleam of blossoms in the treetops
On a moonlit night.
Gleam of blossoms in the treetops
On a moonlit night.
The temple bell stops.
But the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.
But the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.
Hydrangea, a truth of yesterday, a lie of today.
