Who knows what is going on on the other side of each hour?
How many times the sunrise was there, behind a mountain!
How many times the brilliant cloud piling up far off was already a golden body full of thunder!
This rose was poison. That sword gave life.
I was thinking of a flowery meadow at the end of a road,
and
found myself in the slough.
I was thinking of the greatness of what was human,
and
found myself in the divine.
Juan Ramon Jimenez
.
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