I sense, I feel, in every limb & vein,
in all my body & soul,
how deep in your bossom, O Mother,
guivers & sprouts the tiny grass blade;
how the fountain of life streams incenssantly,
night & day;
how, with that mad ecasstasy, the blossoms sway
on the stems that sway in the air;
with what mute, ravishing joys plants & creepers,
blade & blushwood, dance in the morning sun,
like the child dreaming & smiling in happy sleep,
after feeding full at mother's breast....
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