Greet the tender grassblades by your path, and listen <br />While the clay-sprung grass that's fine as hair will whisper, <br />Whisper to your heart, which seems so hard of hearing, <br />'You and I, to time eternity, are equal...' <br /> <br />For Almighty Father God has so arranged that, <br />Since you both accepted as your destination <br />Modest earth, you're halves of an equation: riddles <br />Both: in bloom and ashes, comparable miracles... <br /> <br />Catch this living knowledge, let your eyes be opened, <br />And from then on you will draw your dwindling moment <br />From forever – and not have to split the empire <br />Of the world to muddy earth and starry heaven...<br /><br />Jurgis Baltrušaitis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rustling-of-hair-grass/
