years of childhood we all had mild
this desire to be alone for long. Other
spent their time in quarrels,
we had our share of the world, with near and far with,
an animal, a path, an image.
And I still believe that life
never cease to offer his gifts
the thought that self-feeding.
The broader horizon is not in me?
This is mine no longer wants to comfort me and understand me as
childhood?
Suddenly it's as if I were rejected
and weight becomes too great
me this solitude, when
, high in the hills of my breasts
soul shouting
wings or end calls. Rainer Maria Rilke
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