Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
006 12 29 Points 1316 Partenaires vivaocs target blanc baznas FWD V4 solid 000 safiweb hostma 00px 3px vertical love jiji bientot hichamtoldo skyblog blank siro tssalo mehdibono wesh houssam salam sarah slt tt monde lkhassar sqal 07 wlad asfi t9admo walah mdintkom wa3ra mais ntoma mhachrine m simo simoraymy mimo moi meryem safi c est mon msn mailto soso 2005 mousi9a net hicham toldo ach hadak chi sadi9 dyalach site adrianhicham 3l makshof tamo sba7 lkhayre sba7ato lilah manak miss kawtar salut yala9ina m3a ma7san mana ou tanatmana matab9awche tkhasro fi lhadra awlade khalti msa tupac saha hi everybody souma ha7na left Votre Message auteur maxlenght msg send Voir archives google 160 600 160x600 E1771E 006699 addv Ajouter Une addm addi Photo addt Telechargement addp Devenez partenaire Signaler bug erreur Contacter 250 Codage Design par Mohamed Yassine 0021274185715 N° 17 Bloc 62 Saida 46000 ligne 94 Total 65559 Corpyright Tous droits r? 17 Julie Anne removed the emails and I wold have done the same thing. I am under no obligation not to post the emails and I am trying to figure out what to do… My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death.Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love, And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them, And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and poke-weed. fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.I am satisfied--I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes, That they turn from gazing after and down the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent, Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?4 Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation, The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new, My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues, The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love, The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations, Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events; These come to me days and nights and go from me again, But they are not the Me myself.IT leaders are tasked with making technical magic, improving customer experience, and boosting the bottom line -- yet often without any increase to the IT budget.How are organizations striking the balance between new initiatives and cost control?The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. 3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.