What Is The Body? That Shadow Of

He Is A Letter To Everyone. You Open It. It Says, Live.

On The Path Of Love We Are Neither Masters Nor The Owners Of Our Lives. We Are Only A Brush In The Hand Of The Master Painter.

Through Your Love Existence And Nonexistence Merge. All Opposites Unite. All That Is Profane Becomes Sacred Again.

Who Could Be So Lucky? Who Comes To A Lake For Water And Sees The Reflection Of Moon.

I Have Been So Naughted In Thy Love's Existence That My Nonexistence Is A Thousand Times Sweeter Than My Existence