will be treasured with thy stars.
73
Tiiou hast given me thy seat at thy window from the early hour.
1 have spoken to thy silent servants of the road running on thy errands, and have sung with thy choir of the sky.
I have seen the sea in calm bearing its immeasurable silence, and in storm struggling to break open its own mystery of depth.
I have watched the earth in its prodigal feast of youth, and in its slow hours of brooding shadows*
Those who went to sow seeds have heard my greetings, and those who brought their harvest home or their empty baskets have passed by my songs.
Thus at last my day has ended and now in the evening I sing my last song to say that I have loved thy world.
74
It has fallen upon me, the service of thy singer.
In my songs I have voiced thy spring flowers, and given rhythm to thy rustling leaves.
I have sung into the hush of thy night and peace of thy morning.
The thrill of the first summer rains has passed into my tunes, and the waving of the autumn harvest.
Let not my song cease at last, my Master, when thou breakest my heart to come into my house, but let it burst into thy welcome.
75
Guests of my life,
You came in the early dawn, and you in the night,
Your name was uttered by the Spring flowers and yours by the showers of rain.
You brought the harp into my house and you brought the lamp.
After you had taken your leave I found God’s footprints on my floor.
Now when I am at the end of my pilgrimage I leave in the evening flowers of worship my salutations to you all.
76
I felt I saw your face, and I launched my boat in the dark.
Now the morning breaks in smiles and the spring flowers are in bloom.
Yet should the light fail and the flowers fade I will sail onward.
When you made mute signal to me the world slumbered and the darkness was bare.
Now the bells ring loud and the boat is laden with gold.
Yet should the bells become silent and my boat be empty I will sail onward.
Some boats have gone away and some are not ready, but I will not tarry behind.
The sails have filled, the birds come from the other shore.
Yet, if the sails droop, if the message of the shore be lost, I will sail onward.
77
“Traveller, where do you go?”
“I go to bathe in the sea in the redd’ning dawn, along the tree-bordered path.”
“Traveller, where is that sea?”
“There where this river ends its course, where the dawn opens into morning, where the day droops to the dusk.”
“Traveller, how many are they who come with you?”
“I know not liow to count them.
They are travelling all night with their lamps lit, they are singing all day through land and water.”
“Traveller, liow far is the sea?”
“How far is it we all ask?
The rolling roar of its water swells to the sky when we hush our talk.
It ever seems near yet far.”
“Traveller, the sun is waxing strong.”
“Yes, our journey is long and grievous.
Sing who are weary in spirit, sing who are timid of heart.”
“Traveller, what if the night overtakes you?”
“We shall lie down to sleep till the new morning dawns with its songs, and the call of the sea floats in the air.”
78
Comrade of the road,
Here are my traveller's greetings to thee.
O Lord of my broken heart, of leave taking and loss, of the grey silence of the dayfall,
My greetings of the ruined house to thee!
O Light of the new-born morning,
Sun of the everlasting day.
My greetings of the undying hope to thee!
My guide,
I am a wayfarer of an endless road.
My greetings of a wanderer to thee.
THE FUGITIVE
