ºÝºÝߣ

Amphoe Dan Khun Thot

Teacher

"the days aren't discarded or collected, they are bees that burned with sweetness or maddened the sting: the struggle continues, the journeys go and come between honey and pain. no, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net. they don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river. sleep doesn't divide life into halves, or action, or silence, or honor: life is like a stone, a single motion, a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves, an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal that climbs or descends burning in your bones." pablo neruda