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Tao beveger seg
til alle kanter samtidig -
det er flytende og føyelig i sitt innerste vesen.

Tao er alle tings opphav under solen:
Og alt strømmer ut

av Ingenting.

De går nesten i ett med skumringen.
Sitter urørlige og tause og tar farvel med dagen.
Tenker tanker som ikke slapp til da dagen var den herskende.

It's good to feel you close in the night, Love,
invisible in your sleep, earnestly nocturnal,
while I untangle my confusions
like bewildered nets.

Absent, your heart sails through dreams,
but your body breathes, abandoned like this,
searching for me without seeing me, completing my sleep,
like a plant that propagates in the dark.

When you arise, alive, tomorrow, you'll be someone else:
but something is left from the lost frontiers of the night,
from that being and nothing where we find ourselves,

something that brings us close in the light of life,
as if the seal of the darkness
branded its secret creatures with a fire.

And now you're mine. Rest with your dreams in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.

No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.

Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away;
your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.

[...]
There in the branches I will recognize your hair,
your image ripening in the leaves,
bringing the petals nearer my thirst,

and my mouth will fill with the taste of you,
the kiss that rose from the earth
with your blood, the blood of a lover's fruit.

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -
because - I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

[...]
oh, my dearest, I could not love you so!
But when I hold you I hold everything that is -
sand, time, the tree of the rain,

everything is alaive so that I can be alive:
without moving I can see it all:
in your life I see everything that lives.

[...]
That is why, when I heard your voice repeat
Come with me, it was as if you had let loose
the grief, the love, the fury of a cork-trapped wine

that geysers flooding from deep in its vault:
in my mouth I felt the taste of fire again,
of blood and carnations, of rock and scald

[...]
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

[...]
I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry
trees.

Å være i live betyr å ha sans for humor, å ha en dyp, kjærlig egenskap, å ha lekelyst. Jeg er absolutt imot alle livsfordømmende holdninger. Og respekt for det guddommelige er blitt livsfordømmende. For å gjøre den livsbekreftende må lekelyst, humoristisk sans, kjærlighet og respekt forenes.
Ærbødighet for livet er den eneste respekten for det guddommelige, fordi det finnes ikke noe mer guddommelig enn livet selv.

Jeg prøver ikke å gi dere idealer - å si at du må bli det ene eller det andre. Jeg prøver ganske enkelt å hjelpe deg til å se at du allerede er det du trenger å være.
Bare gi slipp på alle lengsler, alle begjær, alle ambisjoner om å være en annen, slik at du bare kan være det du er.
Jeg ønsker ikke å dra deg bort fra din indre væren. Jeg ønsker å komme nærmere og nærmere din væren slik at du til slutt bare er igjen alene inni deg selv.

Tanker er erstatning for tilstedeværelse.

Vanligvis tror vi at intellektuelle er intelligente mennesker. Det er ikke sant. Intellektuelle lever bare på døde ord. Intelligens kan ikke det. Intelligens gir slipp på ordet - det som er dødt - og tar bare den levende vibrasjonen fra det.
Det intelligente mennesket følger hjertets vei, fordi hjertet ikke er interessert i ord; det er kun interessert i essensen som ligger i det som omgir ordene. Hjertet samler ikke på innpakningen, det drikker ganske enkelt essensen og kaster innpakningen.

Du må være oppmerksom for ikke å bli manipulert av andre, uansett hvor gode deres intensjoner er. Du må redde deg selv fra så mange velmenende mennesker, velgjørere, som stadig vekk råder deg til å være det ene, å være det andre. Lytt til dem og takk dem. De mener ikke noe vondt - men det er det de gjør.
Lytt kun til ditt eget hjerte.
Det er din eneste læremester.