But now to tell you what stimulates the gift in the one who is born with the gift of poetry - is it pleasure or is it pain? Not pleasure at all, pleasure freezes the gift. It is the pain that the sensitive poet's soul has to go through in this life. One may ask, "Then would it be a good thing to seek pain, if one wants to be good poet?" It would be just like thinking crying is a virtue, to hurt oneself a little and cry. Who, with a living heart, can live in this world as it is and not suffer and not experience pain? Who with any sincerity in his nature could go from morning till evening through the insincerity and falsehood and crudity of human nature? In short, a man with tender feeling, a man with open heart cannot avoid suffering - at every step he takes suffering meets him.

          A poet begins with the admiration of beauty and his gift matures in shedding tears over the disappointments that he meets with life. When he has passed that phase then comes another interesting phase, when he begins to laugh at the world. He rises beyond the tears after shedding enough. This does not mean that he becomes critical, that he sneers at life. No, he sees the funny side of things and he sees the whole of life, which was once tragedy, in the form of comedy. This stage is like consolation to him from above after his moments of great pain and suffering through life.

          And there comes another stage, when he rises beyond that stage, where he sees the divine element working in all forms, in all names, when he begins to see his Beloved in all forms, in all names. This comes in the life of a poet as a joy in the life of a young lover, it brings in his life another period. Whatever his condition in life, rich or poor, in comfort or without, he is never without his Beloved, his Divine Beloved in always in his presence. When he arrives at this period he pities that lover who has only a limited beloved to admire, to love. For he has now arrived at a stage that when alone, when in the crowd, when in the North or South, in the West or in the East, on earth or in Heaven, always he is in the presence of his Beloved.

           And if he reached one step further, then it becomes difficult for him to express his emotion, his impulse to poetry, for then he himself becomes a poetry. What he feels, what he thinks, what he says, what he does, all is poetry. At this stage he comes to touch that ideal of unity which unites all things in one. But in order to enjoy this stage the soul must become so matured as to enjoy it. An infant soul would not be able to enjoy the particular consciousness of all-oneness.

           From this time in the poetry of the poet one will find glimpses of prophetic expression. It is not only the beauty of words and meanings, but his words become illuminating and his verses become life-giving. There are in this world souls who are pious, who are wise, who are spiritual, but among them the one who is capable of expressing his realization of life, of truth is not only a poet, but a prophet.