Let Us Put Away Our Blinders And

People Are Distracted By Objects Of Desire, And Afterwards Repent Of The Lust They've Indulged, Because They Have Indulged With A Phantom And Are Left Even Farther From Reality Than Before. Your Desire For The Illusory Is A Wing, By Means Of Which A Seeker Might Ascend To Reality. When You Have Indulged A Lust, Your Wing Drops Off; You Become Lame And That Fantasy Flees. Preserve The Wing And Don't Indulge Such Lust, So That The Wing Of Desire May Bear You To Paradise. People Fancy They Are Enjoying Themselves, But They Are Really Tearing Out Their Wings For The Sake Of An Illusion.

I Have One Small Drop Of Knowing In My Soul. Let It Dissolve In Your Ocean.

Love Is The Reality, And Poetry Is The Drum.

Let A Thousand Wrangling Desires Become One Love.

I Drank Water From Your Spring And Felt The Current Take Me.