Touched
I gladly left The noisy death of the city, With its thousands of leering faces, The yellow night of the alleys. I stride into the broad, Silver sky; The pious limbs glide Deep into gently being. I am in the white brightness Of cloud, meadow, wind. Am tree, am town, am child... How wet are my eyes! Soon the green evening will stand At its silver end... I raise blessed hands - I want to go to meet it -
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About this line
"I gladly left..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Alfred Lichtenstein delivers a powerful performance in "Touched"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...