The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Let your work be, bride. Listen, theguest has come. Do you hear, he is gently shakingthe chain which fastens the door? See that your anklets make no loudnoise, and that your step is not over-hurried at meeting him. Let your…
Over the green and yellow rice-fieldssweep the shadows of the autumnclouds followed by the swift-chasingsun. The bees forget to sip their honey;drunken with light they foolishly hoverand hum. The ducks in the islands of the riverclamour in joy for mere…
She dwelt on the hillside by edgeof a maize-field, near the spring thatflows in laughing rills through thesolemn shadows of ancient trees. Thewomen came there to fill their jars,and travellers would sit there to restand talk. She worked and dreameddaily…
Why do you whisper so faintly inmy ears, O Death, my Death? When the flowers droop in theevening and cattle come back to theirstalls, you stealthily come to my sideand speak words that I do notunderstand. Is this how you…
The fair was on before the temple.It had rained from the early morningand the day came to its end. Brighter than all the gladness ofthe crowd was the bright smile ofa girl who bought for a farthing awhistle of palm…
At midnight the would-be asceticannounced: “This is the time to give up myhome and seek for God. Ah, who hasheld me so long in delusion here?” God whispered, “I,” but the earsof the man were stopped. With a baby asleep…
I often wonder where lie hiddenthe boundaries of recognition betweenman and the beast whose heart knowsno spoken language. Through what primal paradise in aremote morning of creation ran thesimple path by which their heartsvisited each other. Those marks of their…
None lives for ever, brother, andnothing lasts for long. Keep that inmind and rejoice. Our life is not the one old burden,our path is not the one longjourney. One sole poet has not to sing oneaged song. The flower fades…
I hunt for the golden stag. You may smile, my friends, but Ipursue the vision that eludes me. I run across hills and dales, I wanderthrough nameless lands, because I amhunting for the golden stag. You come and buy in…
I spent my day on the scorchinghot dust of the road.Now, in the cool of the evening, Iknock at the door of the inn. It isdeserted and in ruins.A grim ashath tree spreads itshungry clutching roots through thegaping fissures of…