Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost child
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry —
Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.
Did you enjoy the the artible “Across The Fields” from Hermann Hesse on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply