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No better love than love with no object,
no more satisfying work than work with no purpose.
If you could give up tricks and cleverness,
that would be the cleverest trick!

You drive me away gently
as a flute song does a dove
from the eaves.

With the same song
you call me back.

You push me out on many journeys;
then you anchor me with no motion at all.

You want proof that the sun exists, so you stay up
all night talking about it. Finally you sleep
as the sun comes up.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Let yourself be silently drawn
by the stronger pull of what you really love.

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?
I have no idea.
...
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.