fredag 12. desember 2014
The little horses fleeing And we, big horses eating… You are a beauty… Finally drove me wild...
I met her, not by chance,
Standing in the middle of the meadow,
Governing all who passed,
All who addressed her.
In every tree, she raises the one
They laid upon the earth.
She warms and wraps and holds him close
To the fire of her breast.
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