এই পাতাটিকে বৈধকরণ করা হয়েছে। পাতাটিতে কোনো প্রকার ভুল পেলে তা ঠিক করুন বা জানান।
৫৩
I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten bark. The days are long past when my sport was to be tossed on waves. And now, losing myself into the bottom of bliss I am eager to die into deathlessness.
Into the audience hall at the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take his harp of my life. I shall tune it to the nots of Forever, and, when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the Silent.
