Master of Ceremonies

Prayer and Meditation

How beautiful it is outdoors! With green mays in the forest, how beautiful! How sweet to bask, escaping the cities, on lofty heights! Where shadows mingle under the hedges with golden patches, there one settles, refreshed by hazels and lilacs with the scent of leaves. Then one strolls on, picking flowers and herbs and strawberries on the go; You can blow your cheeks with twigs, heated from climbing.

There rise and dip, like twinkling sparks, ripples in the brook: one sees them trickle away in quiet contemplation, half dreaming, half awake. In large areas, covered with hanging birches and beeches, fallow deer and roe deer walk in close proximity, not chased by anyone. The siskin hangs chirping on the swaying brushwood, Don't be afraid of snares; Pleased to hear him, no one seeks to disturb the linnet's singing. Here no porter resists, here no gardener elaborately flourishes in the grove: one does not need the money; The flowers of the field are common to all.

How beautiful it is outdoors! Despots do not desecrate nature here. no creeping flatterer, no blasphemous hypocrite poisons the fields.

The first star is in the sky, the beings imagine God the Lord, and boats leave speechless, a light appears at my house. The waves rise white, everything seems sacred to me. What is important to me? You shouldn't always be sad. Peacefully night and day fight each other.

How to dampen that, how to solve that! The one that oppressed me, are you sleeping already, pain? What made me happy, tell me, what was it, my heart? Joy, like sorrow, I feel, melted away, but slumber they quietly brought near. And floating away, always up, life seems to me like a lullaby.