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Posts by Pascale Huber Peier aka MissReformiert

Picture of a flying owl

Picture of a flying owl

Actual photo of the Holy Spirit in stealth mode flying in your direction. Hold on, friend. She’s on her way.

1 year ago 110 7 3 0

Ein wärmendes Lagerfeuer für die Seelen.
Das wärs jetzt.

2 years ago 70 6 5 1

Druf bin i ziemli fertig vor dr Himmelstüre gschtange
När chunnt dr Petrus drhär u fragt mi wär i sig
Un i ha's gseit
När seit är
Piinlech, dass i di nid kennt ha
U faat afa "Alperose" singe

(Sensibel, 2010)

Tschou zäme, mir si jitz o hie. #ZWBlueSky

2 years ago 18 3 0 0

❤️

2 years ago 2 0 0 0
Ausländer - Deutsche Lyrik

Rose Ausländer (1901-1988)
Am Ende der Zeit

Wenn der Krieg beendet ist
am Ende der Zeit

gehn wir wieder spazieren
in der Muschelallee
einverstanden
mit Mensch und Mensch

Es wird schön sein
wenn es sein wird

am Ende der Zeit

Quelle: www.deutschelyrik.de/auslaender.h...

2 years ago 54 10 0 2
An excerpt from the stated poem:

4.
The light has changed;
middle C is tuned darker now.
And the songs of morning sound over-rehearsed. 
This is the light of autumn, not the light of spring.
The light of autumn: you will not be spared.
The songs have changed; the unspeakable
has entered them.
This is the light of autumn, not the light that says
I am reborn.
Not the spring dawn: I strained, I suffered, I was delivered.
This is the present, an allegory of waste.
So much has changed. And still, you are fortunate:
the ideal burns in you like a fever.
Or not like a fever, like a second heart.

An excerpt from the stated poem: 4. The light has changed; middle C is tuned darker now. And the songs of morning sound over-rehearsed. This is the light of autumn, not the light of spring. The light of autumn: you will not be spared. The songs have changed; the unspeakable has entered them. This is the light of autumn, not the light that says I am reborn. Not the spring dawn: I strained, I suffered, I was delivered. This is the present, an allegory of waste. So much has changed. And still, you are fortunate: the ideal burns in you like a fever. Or not like a fever, like a second heart.

From “October”
Louise Glück (1943-2023)

2 years ago 14 3 0 0
A fluffy creature, sleeping in a cup of milky tea

A fluffy creature, sleeping in a cup of milky tea

today's agenda

2 years ago 246 26 3 2
Post image
2 years ago 159 26 3 6
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Kein Trost. Nirgends. Man fühlt sich hoffnungslos wie lange nicht

2 years ago 288 42 11 6