Stages of live - or the four seasons

Stages of live - or the four seasons

2 months ago
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Sonnet XVII

    I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
    or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
    I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
    in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

    I love you as the plant that never blooms
    but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
    thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
    risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

  I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
  I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
    so I love you because I know no other way

    than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
    so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
    so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
    Pablo Neruda

2 months ago
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Schöneweide mit statement

Schöneweide mit statement

2 months ago
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Der Traum der zum Stillleben wurde.

Der Traum der zum Stillleben wurde.

1 year ago
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