By Maria Popova
For we are creatures made in a time, which we call our suffering is at the bottom of time, opposition to it is not – the pain of losing it, to deal with it which is no longer; The pain of longing, sad because of what it is not yet and so. The pain of loneliness, permanent now meaning explanation. There may be comfort in the backing to understand the amazing surprise, and it looks forward to the management of immortal atoms. But nothing is lost in our vision, nothing you create for temporary books booking so far, in addition to expanding our life season until the poem of Hannah Fries.
https: /www.youtube.com/watch? v = PJ4BVvvvblahs0
It's all in it
With Hanna FriesIf you go back, you can see everything
Above: Your mother's death, children
Grow up, their smooth eyeliders fell viously with arteries
Like a saffron image. Forward and, and see
Your wild-smile groom treading the cold ocean,
Lakes in his collar, great-
The great grandchilds draw their names
on sandy sands. To sea
Waking and falling, snow to rip the world,
and the packaging pockets of survival – lee sides, tropical springs,
protected areas. The first light on the first day
of your life, and the first star light.
In this way, all death, the end is obvious,
possible, in the mind of spacetime, tied
in one memory, so that it is always
This tree, and long days of crossing in love
over a complex pattern of bark and leaves,
and the first green cell study of LALLOW SUN.
The couple with the wonderful pair of Hannah “let the last thing be a song,” and return Kahlil Gibran with a time makine.
