LOVE

In our life there is a single color,
As on an artist's palette,
Which provides the meaning,
Of life and art -
It is the color of love.
And love is a canvas,
Furnished by Nature,
And embroidered by imagination.
We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.

Love is energy of life.
It is light from heaven;
A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared,
By God given to lift from earth our low desire.
Love in its essence is spiritual fire.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other,
But in looking outward,
Together,
In the same direction.
Love won't be tampered with,
Love won't go away.
Push it to one side,
And it creeps to the other.

There is hardly any activity,
Any enterprise,
Which is started out with such tremendous hopes and expectations,
And yet which fails so regularly,
As love.
True love is like ghosts,
Which everybody talks about,
And few have seen.

To a person in love,
The value of the individual is intuitively known.
Love needs no logic for its mission.
We are not the same persons this year as last;
Nor are those we love.
It is a happy chance if we,
Changing,
Continue to love a changed person.

A love at first sight,
Love everlasting:
A feeling unknown,
Un-hoped for,
Unexpected in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness;
It took entire possession of the person,
And the person understood,
With joyous amazement,
That this love was for life.

A man reserves his true and deepest love,
Not for the species of woman,
In whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled,
But for that one in whose company,
He may feel tenderly drowsy.

We often conceal love from ourselves,
In vain-
We must always love something.
In those matters seemingly removed from love,
The feeling is secretly to be found,
And man cannot possibly live for a moment without it.

Love,
Free as air at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings,
And in a moment,
Flies.

There is a land of the living,
And a land of the dead,
And the bridge is love,
The only survival,
The only meaning.

No matter what you've done for yourself,
Or for humanity,
If you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family,
What have you really accomplished?

There is always some madness in love,
But there is what makes it serendipitous.
Love is perfect, even when we are not.