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Flames Three flames to stir my heart, My first love, my last love, my eternal love.
The sounds of the winds in the elms like the strings of a harp being played, the note of the blackbird that claps with the wings of delight in the glade.
Three gifts of the morning: the crowing of the cock, the dew on the web, and the rising of the sun.
(a little cock-a-doodle-doo is necessary to wake us up in the morning, so we can enjoy the beauty of dewdrops on the spiders web and we can celebrate every single day, because the sun has risen again)
there is no way to happiness, happiness is the way (the buddha)