Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXXI. The Regatta
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his hand and stroked my cheek gently, almost
timidly.
“Siete buono come il mare,” he murmured.
Good as the sea!
I do not write down here these words with
conceit, I write them with wonder. Where did
these words come from? Surely they came
from far, they came as an echo from a
long-forgotten golden age when Pan was still alive,
when the trees in the forest could speak and the
waves of the sea could sing and man could listen
and understand.
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