Even the sun must leave us, and bow before the greying times between worlds of night and day; Then even the night must leave us when colors return, the dew is gone, and beauty takes the breath of eyes away. And all must endure parting, a given sorrow, a condition of life: the ordained and chosen Way. For if not good-bye, how hello? If not distance, how reunion? Without going, how to come and stay? I drink the sweet poison, now turning my fingers numb, in order that, knowingly, I may say: Everything divided must rejoin -- else the meaning of our separation would not give such cause to pray.