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I would not exchange the sorrow of my heart for the joys of the multitude.
And I could not have the tears that sadness makes to flow from my every part turn into laughter.
I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.
A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding of life's secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and to be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.
A tear to unite me with those of broken heart; a smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.
I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than I lived weary and despairing.
I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the depths of my spirit, for I have seen those who are satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.
With evening's coming the flower folds her petals and sleeps, embracing her longing. At mornings approach, she opens her lips to meet the sun's kiss.
The life of the flower is longing and fulfillment.
A tear and a smile.
The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come together and are a cloud. And the cloud floats above the hills and valley's until it meets the gentle breeze , then falls weeping to the fields and joins with the brooks and rivers to return to the sea, it's home.
The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.
And does the spirit become separated from the greater spirit to move in the world of matter and pass as a cloud over mountain of sorrow and plains of joy to meet the breeze of death and return whence it came.
To the ocean of love and beauty.....to God.
Kahlil Gibran.......takes your breath away, right? |
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Lovers |
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Therefore as the sky appeared... gray sufficient to make fear and rain...and wind within and outside intense scent, adorable torture.
Arabesques designed on the knot light, sensuous caresses like waves, and hands that are attempted, are tightened, warmth in the air... the passion is incumbent.
Lovers..., but not irreverant picked in the bunch from one fate friend and hour aware and shaking of forehead to sliding of the life. Fausto |
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dreams of gold
i see you in my dreams of gold too far gone, too quickly old in the hazy realm of sleep i saw how you used to be a glimpse of shamless grace you were i long to have you in such a state of complete and utter confidence a serene and lovely soul too far gone, too quickly old i saw you in my dreams of gold melissa sproles |
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You |
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you, that you know the dark face of the moon and you have overwhelmed my craters of caresses you, have covered my wrinkles to one to one you, have broken to my fears and the certainties you, that you have ignited the color of my mind grabbed hold of to my body with the arms you, have shown me those that you are worth, those that you feel that the destiny dares hour... or not talking. Fausto |
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J.W. Waterhouse- Psyche opening the golden box. |
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Time is slow for those who wait, too swift for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.- Henry Van Dyke |
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More |
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