"It is their song too. I teach it
to them, over and over, till
my tired eyes are pricked with tears
held back, sweet smoke, dust and jasmine."
"To me", wrote Wordsworth, "the meanest flower that blows can give / Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
--- On Wed, 9/22/10, Chokh Raj <[log in to unmask]> wrote: