Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
Our life's sun is slowly going Down the hill of might; Will our clouds shine golden-glowing On the slope of night? But the vanished corn is lying In rich golden glooms. In the churchyard, all the singing Is above the tombs. Spring will come, slow-lingering, Opening buds of faith. Man goes forth to meet his spring, Through the door of death.
Then came that small voice which a man hears sometimes in the night stillness and sometimes in the blare of daylight wrangle. And all suddenly I knew that He who notes the sparrow's fall knew that I was alone with death, slow-lingering, inch-creeping death, out on that wide, lonely plain. The glare on the waters softened. The heat fell away. The despair and agony lifted.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking