167
The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return
in songs.

168
That which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the
open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its
entrance?

169
Thought feeds itself with its own words and grows.

170
I have dipped the vessel of my heart into this silent hour; it
has filled with love.

171
Either you have work or you have not.
When you have to say, "Let us do something," then begins
mischief.

172
The sunflower blushed to own the nameless flower as her kin.
The sun rose and smiled on it, saying, "Are you well, my
darling?"

173
"Who drives me forward like fate?"

"The Myself striding on my back."