Pity­ful a retho­ric ques­ti­on ran

A won­der­ful sere­ni­ty has taken pos­ses­si­on of my ent­i­re soul, like the­se sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my who­le heart. I am alo­ne, and feel the charm of exis­tence in this spot, which was crea­ted for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so hap­py, my dear fri­end, so absor­bed in the exqui­si­te sen­se of mere tran­quil exis­tence, that I neglect my talents. I should be inca­pa­ble of drawing a sin­gle stro­ke at the pre­sent moment; and yet I feel that I never was a grea­ter artist than now.

When, while the lovely val­ley teems with

vapour around me, and the meri­di­an sun strikes the upper sur­face of the imp­ene­tra­ble folia­ge of my trees, and but a few stray gleams ste­al into the inner sanc­tua­ry, I throw mys­elf down among the tall grass by the trick­ling stream; and, as I lie clo­se to the earth, a thousand unknown plants are noti­ced by me: when I hear the buzz of the litt­le world among the stalks, and grow fami­li­ar with the count­less inde­scri­bable forms of the insects and flies, then I feel the pre­sence of the Almigh­ty, who for­med us in his own image, and the bre­ath of that uni­ver­sal love which bears and susta­ins us, as it floats around us in an eter­ni­ty of blist.

I sink under the weight of the splendour of the­se visions!A won­der­ful sere­ni­ty has taken pos­ses­si­on of my ent­i­re soul, like the­se sweet mornings of spring which

I sink under the weight of the splendour of the­se visions!A won­der­ful sere­ni­ty has taken pos­ses­si­on of my ent­i­re soul, like the­se sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my who­le heart. I am alo­ne, and feel the charm of exis­tence in this spot, which was crea­ted for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so hap­py, my dear fri­end, so absor­bed in the exquis

I throw mys­elf down among the tall grass

I should be inca­pa­ble of drawing a sin­gle stro­ke at the pre­sent moment; and yet I feel that I never was a grea­ter artist than now. When, while the lovely val­ley teems with vapour around me, and the meri­di­an sun strikes the upper sur­face of the imp­ene­tra­ble folia­ge of my trees, and but a few stray gleams ste­al into the inner sanc­tua­ry, I throw mys­elf down among the tall grass by the trick­ling stream; and, as I lie clo­se to the earth, a thousand unknown plants are noti­ced by me: when I hear the buzz of the litt­le world among the stalks, and grow fami­li­ar with the count­less inde­scri­bable forms of the insects and

Text, that whe­re it came from it

Far far away, behind the word moun­ta­ins, far from the coun­tries Voka­lia and Con­so­nan­tia, the­re live the blind texts. Sepa­ra­ted they live in Book­marks­gro­ve right at the coast of the Seman­ti­cs, a lar­ge lan­guage oce­an. A small river named Duden flows by their place and sup­plies it with the necessa­ry rege­li­alia. It is a para­di­se­ma­tic coun­try, in which roas­ted parts of sen­ten­ces fly into your mouth. Even the all-power­ful Poin­ting has no con­trol about the blind texts it is an almost unor­tho­gra­phic life One day howe­ver a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum deci­ded to lea­ve for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advi­sed her not to do so, becau­se the­re were thousands of bad Com­mas, wild Ques­ti­on Marks and devious Semi­ko­li, but the Littl

  • Far far away, behind the word moun­tain
  • When she reached the first hills
  • A small river named Duden flows
  • A small river named Duden flows by their plat.
  • Far far away, behind the word moun­tain

Copy Wri­ters ambus­hed her, made her drunk with Lon­ge and Paro­le and drag­ged her into their agen­cy, whe­re they abu­sed her for their pro­jects again and again. And if she hasn’t been rewrit­ten, then they are still using her.Far far away, behind the word moun­ta­ins, far from the coun­tries Voka­lia and Con­so­nan­tia, the­re live the blind texts. Sepa­ra­ted they live in Book­marks­gro­ve right at the coast of the Seman­ti­cs, a lar­ge lan­guage oce­an. A small river named Duden flows by their pla­te.

About the author

Tellerrandüberflieger: Freunde & gute Freunde; große & kleine Politik; Europa & Welt; Feuilleton & Gesellschaft; Schwimmen & Laufen; Klassik & Jazz; ger & eng

Leave a Reply

zwanzig + 2 =

Sende eine Nachricht via Facebook Messenger App
%d Bloggern gefällt das: