Lord, let me live as I will! A little giddiness of heart, The strange taste of unknown flowers. For whom else are Your mountains? Your snow wind? These springs?
The sheep do not understand. They graze and graze, all of them, and always in the same direction, and then eternally chew the cud of their insipid routine. But I-- I love to bound to the heart of all Your marvels, leap Your chasms, and my mouth stuffed with intoxicating grasses, quiver with an adventurer's delight on the summit of the world!