Friday, December 2, 2011


'Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost, 
No birth, identity, form--no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain. 

Ample are time and space--ample the fields of Nature. 
The body, sluggish, aged, cold--the embers left from earlier fires, 
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again; 
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual; 
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns, 
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.'
By Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

Sicket stycke konst.

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