Do not think that fate means more than the thick wilderness of childhood.
18 likes
Do not think that fate means more than the thick wilderness of childhood.
For it would seem, that all things wrap themselves
In secrecy against us. See: the trees
Exist; the houses stand, that shelter us.
We only, with a light exchange of greeting,
pass all things by, and everything conspires
Against us, to keep silence; half in shame,
Perhaps, and half in hope unspeakable.