Above the ponds, above the valleys,
From the mountains, woods, clouds, seas,
Beyond the sun, across the ethers,
Beyond the confines of starry spheres,
My mind, you meus with agility,
And, as a good swimmer who pme in the wave,
You sillonnes gaily the immensity deep
With a male and unspeakable delight.
Envole yourself away from these miasmas morbid;
Go to purify the air above,
And wood, as a pure and divine liqueur
The bright that fills the spaces clear.
Behind the problems and the vast sorrows
Who responsible for their weight hazy existence,
Blessed is he who is a strong wing
To rush the fields bright and serene;
Anyone whose pensers, as larks,
Towards the skies in the morning to take a free swing,
-- Who plane on life, and includes effortlessly
The language of flowers and things silent! |
