Silence serves as a lock on the lips of the excitable,
as a barrier between two hearts severed from one another;
as a shield for wise amidst fools;
as a veil over the face of the unfettered before the well-versed.
What was it that came to use in the forest, the solitude?
In either case it was nothing else but the depth of our own life,
which is silent like the depths of the great sea, so silent and still.
It is the surface of the sea that makes waves and roaring breakers;
the depth is silent.
So the depth of our own being is silent also.
