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.
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.. ръцете празни са, 
но умът е спокоен.
И денят спира да диша.

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Peace my heart..

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

Rabindranath Tagore



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As every blossom wilts and every youth yield to age
blooms every step of life, and every wisdom and every virtue
in its time and shall not last.
At every step in life must the heart
be prepared for loss and new beginnings,
with courage and without sorrow
in others, to offer new attachments.
And in every beginning there is a magic,
that protects us and helps us to live.
We should cheerfully stride from place to place
without attachment to any one or nation.
The world"s spirit shall not make us captive,
but will lift us from step to step, onwards.
Scarcely as we are come into life
and are finally at home, then threatens loss of vigor.
Only those who are ready to depart and travel,
may be comfortable with this.
It will perhaps that the hour of our death
will show us yet new possibilities.
Life"s call shall not end.
Therefore, my heart, grasp both the farewell and with it be well.

Hermann Hesse

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