He Who Does Not Know

Once I Blazed Across The Sky, Leaving Trails Of Flame; I Fell To Earth, And Here I Lie - Who'll Help Me Up Again? -a Shooting Star

I Make Presents To The Mother But Think Of The Daughter.

I Do Not Speak Of What I Cannot Praise.

Vanity Is A Desire Of Personal Glory, The Wish To Be Appreciated, Honoured, And Run After, Not Because Of One's Personal Qualities, Merits, And Achievements, But Because Of One's Individual Existence. At Best, Therefore, It Is A Frivolous Beauty Whim It Befits.

So Dear Night The Half Of Life Is, And The Fairest Half Indeed.