SAGE. Wilderness, my dearest friend, why did I leave you? When did I leave you? Though I had left you, still you were always in my heart; the memory of having meditated in the woods, of having trees of long tradition whose every leaf is a tongue of flame... Venerated trees, have I not taken refuge in your shadow from the hot sun, when tired of roaming about in the wilderness, bare-footed? ... Little pools of water, I drank nectar from you... Joyful I felt under the vast canopy of the blue sky... Gentle streams of water, running from hills and rocks, I bathed in you and was purified of all infirmities... High mountains with a background of white clouds. No place in the world could be compared with your beauty... Morning sun, you are most glorious in the wilderness. I have never seen your face so beaming anywhere else.