I breathe the freshness of the world.
I see the unbelievable splendour of the skies.
The miracle of spring, the austere whiteness of winter.
And I wonder,
What does this all mean.
Surely all this grandeur cannot be for us alone.
We do our best to destroy it.
But fragility has its own strengths.
Strenghts we have yet to fathom.
May be there is hope yet.
I see the unbelievable splendour of the skies.
The miracle of spring, the austere whiteness of winter.
And I wonder,
What does this all mean.
Surely all this grandeur cannot be for us alone.
We do our best to destroy it.
But fragility has its own strengths.
Strenghts we have yet to fathom.
May be there is hope yet.
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