Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, 'Speak to us of Pleasure.'
And he answered, saying:
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It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But it is not the deep nor the high. It is the caged taking wing, But it is not space encompassed. Great poem. Unique, nicely written poem.
A philosophical poem, For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love,