You of the West,
Your fear of the Orient, Is it fear of sleeping or of waking? |
Artwork © Rickbw1
Love is imagining, always;
It invents the year, the day, The hour, the song of the hour; It invents the lover and even Invents the beloved. Nothing is proved Against love for the beloved’s Never having existed. |
One lies more than can be counted for lack of imagination.
Truth also is invented. |