Your joy is your sorrow unmasked,
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises,
Was often times filled with your tears
And how else can it be?
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being
The more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine
The very cup that was burned on the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit
The very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous,
look deep into your heart
And you shall find it is only that
Which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful,
Look again in your heart,
And you shall see that
In truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow,"
and others say, "Nay sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you,
they are inseperable.
Together they come,
And when one sits alone with you at your board,
Remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy,
Only when you are empty
Are you at a standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and silver,
Needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
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