<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=497332" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Whatever Happens, Move On, Pursue That End</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">when we begin we already know what distance is<br>we see it in the stars we hear it from the Siberian winds<br>we were telling the trees that our beginning was the smile of the snails<br>that the moss have always been faithful to the stones</div><div style="margin:10px 0">at the middle we learned the games of the waves and the seagulls<br>there is always the happy chase between respect and dignity<br>like the moon how it sits on the black horizon how it lightens the silence</div><div style="margin:10px 0">you want to know the intimacy of the wind and the cliff<br>how they have become almost the same in sonorous sounds<br>sometimes you sense the semblance of surrender <br>not wanting to go on and be the roots of the trees and the grass</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i have touched the tips of your hair, though short, but that is enough<br>my wings have fully grown and the winds are waiting<br>i am destined for something else beyond the touch of your hands<br>i do not know how my story shall end, but the voices are assuring</div><div style="margin:10px 0">whatever happens, tell me, for once, that you too shall find yourself<br>do not turn back, pursue the end without the trembling, the remorse of pain</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=497332" data-title="Whatever Happens, Move On, Pursue That End de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="when we begin we already know what distance is we see it in the stars we hear it from the Siberian winds we were telling the trees that our beginning was the smile of the snails that the moss have always been faithful to the stones at the middle ..."></div> </div> </div>

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