归去（4）

    ay, i kne you a lake among the mountains.

    i mirrored the summits in you and the bending slopes, and even the passing flocks of your thoughts and your desires.

    and to my silence came the laughter of your children in streams, and the longing of your youths in rivers.

    and .

    but shter and greater than longing came to me.

    it ing is but a soundless throbbing.

    it is in the vast man that you are vast,

    and in beholding him that i beheld you and loved you.

    for ht?

    like a giant oak tree covered ht binds you to the earth, his fragrance lifts you into space, and in his durability you are deathless.

    you have been told that, even like a chain, you are as  as your strongest link.

    to measure you by your smallest deed is to reckon the poe you by your failures is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconstancy.

    ay, you are like an ocean,

    and though heavy grounded ships ah in your ,

    yet spring, reposing s in order that you may say the one to the other,“he praised us ood in us.”

    i only speak to you in ht.

    and e but a shadoe?

    your thoughts and my hts ht ive you of their reater than athering more of itself,

    of your days.

    it is life in quest of life in bodies that fear the grave.

    there are no graves here.

    these mountains and plains are a cradle and a stepping-stone.

    hand in hand.</p>

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