And God will mingle us into one shape
In an eternal garden of gold stars.

_Love Ballad of the Caucasus._




_CHINA_



WE WERE TWO GREEN RUSHES

We were two green rushes by opposing banks,
And the small stream ran between.
Not till the water beat us down
Could we be brought together,
Not till the winter came
Could we be mingled in a frosty sleep,
Locked down and close.

_From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century)._



SONG WRITER PAID WITH AIR

I sit on a white wood box
Smeared with the black name