Man måste ju älska att ha sovmorgon
och så måsta man passa på att vara vaken sent när man inte måste upp tidigt! Men nu börjar iaf ögonen bli lite trötta så en dikt på det här sen ska jag drömma om lusekoftor ;)
A gril av Ezra Pound
A gril av Ezra Pound
The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.
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