A silent consonant between parentheses to define one, and to conjugate it.
If he soared towards the heavens, as in the dream of a fallen king, and from his roots nothing would be born other than the creative madness of the one who lived on his feet. Did I take away his human heart to substitute that of an animal? The dew did not feed him. I engraved the prophecies, circled it with gold and silver instead of iron and brass, likewise chains.
The strength built by the years, broken by man bears the traces of his battles and his times.
The birds of flesh and blood have long since deserted it, but more than any tree it bears their renewed fruit, I heard the bird and honored it.
The tree is felled to the ground, it is the (h)Être, the nest of the nest. We did not hear the crash of its fall in other places, but here, in silence, it reverberates. Each of its sections bears fruit from its encounters in other times, with all those who have nested within it. These traces are re-interpreted in psalms, gold and shadows. The (h)Être asks if we have not abused our strength.
In his stump it is written in the dream of Nebuchadnezzar, to climb too high towards the sky it was necessary to cut him down, to allow him to be reborn one day. But what are dreams?
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A silent consonant between parentheses to define one, and to conjugate it.
If he soared towards the heavens, as in the dream of a fallen king, and from his roots nothing would be born other than the creative madness of the one who lived on his feet. Did I take away his human heart to substitute that of an animal? The dew did not feed him. I engraved the prophecies, circled it with gold and silver instead of iron and brass, likewise chains.
The strength built by the years, broken by man bears the traces of his battles and his times.
The birds of flesh and blood have long since deserted it, but more than any tree it bears their renewed fruit, I heard the bird and honored it.
The tree is felled to the ground, it is the (h)Être, the nest of the nest. We did not hear the crash of its fall in other places, but here, in silence, it reverberates. Each of its sections bears fruit from its encounters in other times, with all those who have nested within it. These traces are re-interpreted in psalms, gold and shadows. The (h)Être asks if we have not abused our strength.
In his stump it is written in the dream of Nebuchadnezzar, to climb too high towards the sky it was necessary to cut him down, to allow him to be reborn one day. But what are dreams?
Download