Happiness is not a tended rose Amid the prescient beauty of a garden: Perhaps one senses soon some gate may close; Perhaps one senses soon the earth will harden. Years come and go like waves upon a shore, Violent or peaceful with the wind. After one has given up on more, Love waits within the heart, its passion thinned. Even in a passage void of light, Nether windings black with rage and grief, There are waters sweet with lost delight In which one finds a strong, serene belief. No happiness can overcome life's pain Except one love, and love give life again.
