In love, shall you be the splendor or the suffering?  In matters of the heart, what majestic embodiment do you wish to portray: pleasure’s anguish or pain’s desire?

I am silver thread that the gods throw from on high. Nature seizes me and adorns the valleys.

I am lovely pearls fallen from Astarte’s crown. The daughter of the morning stole them and studded the fields with them.

I weep, and the hills smile. I am abased, and the flowers hold high their heads. The cloud and the field are lovers, and I am that servant who goes between them. I weep and quench the thirst of the one and cure the disease of the other.

The crash of thunder and lightning swords herald my approach. The rainbow is the triumphal arch at my journey’s end. This earthly life begins beneath the feet of angry matter and ends in the hands of peaceful death.

I rise from the heart of the lake and soar on ethereal wings. When I see a lovely garden, I descend and kiss its blossoms and embrace its branches.

In silence I drum my dainty fingertips upon the window glass, and that drumming blends into a song that perceptive souls can understand.

I am begotten by the heat of the air, yet I slay the air’s heat. Thus may a woman master a man through power she draws from man.

I am the sighing of the sea. I am the tears of the sky. I am the smile of the field. So too is love a sigh from the sea of emotions, a tear from the sky of love, and a smile from the field of the soul.