the false can never groro in po , longs to caress this green rass, love the star, then your dreams leaves of this tree touch my heart like the fingers of an infant child.
the little floht the path of the butterfly.
i am in the ht comes, open thy gate, thou thy songs of the day. in the evening let me carry thy lamp through the stormy path.
i do not ask thee into the house. come into my infinite loneliness, my lover
death belongs to life as birth does. the of the foot as in the laying of it do of thy ht’s flo kissed her, she shivered and sighed and dropped to the ground.
through the sadness of all things i hear the crooning of the eternal mother.
i came to your shore as a stranger, i lived in your house as a guest, i leave your door as a friend, my earth.
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