Graceful, spiritual,with the gentleness of arabesquesour life is similarto the existence of fairiesthat spin in soft cadencearound nothingnessto which we sacrificethe here and
Dreams of beauty, youthful joylike a breath in pure harmonywith the depth of your young surfacewhere sparkles the longing for the nightfor blood and
In the emptiness, spinning, without aims or needsdance free our livesalways ready for the gameyet, secretly, we thirst for realityfor the conceiving, for the birthwe are thirst for sorrows and
This is one of the poems by Hermann Hesse that we can find in his last novel The Glass Bead Game.
With that novel he won the Nobel Prize of Literature in 1946.
Mariza
