Ny tonsättning

1 mar 2020

The peace of wild things - a poem by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake rests 

in his beauty on the water, 

and the great heron feeds. 

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.  

I come into the presence of still water, 

and I feel above me the day-blind stars 

waiting with their light. 

For a time

I rest in the grace of the world,

and am free.


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