If it was not for the wind I would be there in spirit Somewhere—embodied If it was not for the seas Volcanic ashes, tirelessly Mounting and moaning, Ever inwardly, groaning I would be there
Heedfully glowing of embers gently, vying. “O” tyrannies of love burn endlessly, undying... “O” dervish men dance and sing all—afire! The way of love lies in thy self-denying/nothing.
Lord; you can extract the salt Out of the sea; But how lord do you decree? Too take the briny-sea out the salt. Lord; you can smudge a cloud Out of the skies;
