美文欣赏每日一篇

if hands could free you, heart, where would you fly? far, beyond every part of earth this running sky makes desolate? would you cross city and hill and sea, if hands could set you free? i would not lift the latch; for i could run through fields, pit-valleys, catch all beauty under the sun-- still end in loss: i should find no bent arm, no bed to rest my head.