倘若我的幼鸟不离开我亲自用喙筑起的巢穴，我心中的雄鹰又怎能迎日翱翔呢？
beyond my solitude
beyond my solitude is another solitude, and to him am i and too restless to seek that above-solitude. the voices of yonder valley still hold my ears and its shadoo.
beyond these hills is a grove of enchantment and to him am i and too riotous to seek that sacred grove. the taste of blood is clinging in my mouth, and the boer in my hand and i cannot go.
beyond this burdened self lives my freer self; and to him my dreams are a battle fought in tht and my desires the rattling of bones.
too young am i and too outraged to be my freer self.
and hoing upon the le in me soar against the sun until my fledglings leave the nest y o?
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