Hans Rustad Mirrors are not more silent nor the creeping dawn more secretive; in the moonlight, you are that panther we catch sight of from afar. By the inexplicable workings of a divine law, we look for you in vain; More remote, even, than the Ganges or the setting sun, yours is the solitude, yours the secret. […]
Bli abonnent eller logg inn – hvis du allerede er abonnent – for å lese denne artikkelen. Pluss-artikler blir frigitt 24 timer etter publisering. Arkiverte artikler er forbeholdt abonnenter.
