The life is the crossing of a sea,where we meet in the same narrow ship.In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds.
The stream of thuth flows through its channels of mistakes
My heat is homesick today for the one sweet hour across the sea of time
The bird_song is the echo of the morning light back from the earch.
"Are you too proud to kiss me?"the morning light asks the buttercup.
"How may I sing to thee and worship,O sun?"asked the little flower.
"By the simple silence of the purity."answered the sun.
Man is worse than an animan when he is an animal.
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