Capitolo 30
thoughtful calm. The sun that burns more, but it enveloped in a
veil of blue paler. Any more black grumbling of clouds and dressing again wicker on
from the horizon but a white solo that it slowly brushes against
the zenith as the lost wing of a swan. Far under of him the
silver-faced hawk, using the cloud as his/her grandiose parasol. The
the anxiety in gone spring, now all but unbelievable how come having
existed; the birds made to keep silent and hiding; the bee, so agile once,
him put to sleep on his/her his/her own cider-press in the shade of the gilded one
apple. Depth give some woods the notes you/they can come of the
cuckoo; but they slowly strikes more and more the air as the
crashes, crash of a distant wheel that has been stopping to the closing
of crop. The whirring flies some locust allows him to go
in a long wave of sound, passing in silence. Every nature is a
sacred and enormous wine glass, filling drop by drop to the edge and not to
is shaken. But the walks stiff of the later flowers they start to be filled
with flower expediting him so that they is not late; and the nighthawk quickly
you climb on his/her stairway of taller and taller, taller and taller flight,
as if he would rise above of the warm white sea of atmosphere and
you inhale cold ether.
To August my nature will always go its his/her own way and will look for his really
peace. I err solitary, but never alone, on this pastoral rich
unloadings, while crossing farm after farm, and holding as best I am able out of
perceives some negroes working or it lingers. For the sight of them
ruins every panorama, and I will never feel me free up to
they has gone. Thing if theirs sing? The more one is the pity that any
human being could be happy enough to sing so long as he was a slave
in some thought or fiber of his/her nature.
Sometimes it is through the later-mathematics of wheat-field fat, where
floating coop as innumerable few takes with the net of silver gauze the webs of the
skilled weavers, and where a whole world of small hauled people flutters
from the tree-top to tree-overcome some low weeds. They is every mine--these