The voice:
That I heard so many years ago,
From the distant lakes,
Near the forests pure.
The voice:
Whispers in quickening breaths,
Beckoning me to quietness,
Calling the wild soul,
Knowing what I know not.
“The insufferable arrogance of human beings to think that Nature was made solely for their benefit, as if it was conceivable that the sun had been set afire merely to ripen men's apples and head their cabbages.” by ~Savinien de Cyrano de Bergerac, États et empires de la lune, 1656
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