Dance, Lalla,with nothing on but air. Sing, Lalla, wearing the sky.

Look at this glowing day! What clothes could be so beautiful, or more sacred?

~~~~~~~~~~

I began as a bloom of cotton outdoors, Then they bought to a room where they washed me. Then the hard strokes of the carder's wife. Then another woman spun thin threads, twisting me around her wheel. Then the kicks of the weaver's loom made cloth, and on the washing stone ,washermen wet and slung me about to their satisfaction, whitened me with earth and bone, and cleaned me to my own amazement. Then the scissors of the tailor, piece by piece, and his careful finishing work.

Now, at last, as clothes, I find You and freedom. This living is so difficult before one takes your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fame is water
carried in a basket.

Hold the wind in your fist,
or tie up an elephant
with one hair

These are accomplishments
that will make you famous

~~~~~~~~~~

Self inside self,
You are nothing but me. Self inside self,
I am only You.
What we are together will never die.
The why and how of this? What does it matter?