The light is round and rolls on all its sides,
down the mountains, through the dales,
the beings in and out and past the plants,
it climbs up in the trees and goes in front of all.
Where to? I don't ask, I come, I go,
because my hands and my feet,
my eyes and my heart must so
and I just happen to see light this way.
Pierre Kemp (1886 – 1967) The Netherlands
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