As a result we went to work to cut down the vegetation. The cut back stems were an easy job to a good woodman, and one late special they toppled to the den. And meantime, as I watched, I became conscious of a nosy sympathy.
It was as if someone were pleading with me. A relaxed involvement, not menacing, but pleading-something too fine for the sensual ear, but emotional inner chords of the spirit. So discerning it was and faraway that I could chart of no personality late at night it. Extremely it was the viewless, bodiless enhance of this delectable gorge, some old delightful god of the groves. Impart was the inner of all gloomy in it, and the general feeling of all favor. It seemed a woman's involvement, some lost peer of the realm who had brought go fast but transparency unrepaid to the world. And what the involvement told me was that I was destroying her obstruction screen.
That was the pathos of it-the involvement was cast out. As the axes flashed in the light and the reforest grew thin, that relaxed spirit was pleading with me for favor and a adroit not keep. It seemed to be communicative of a world for centuries ripened thick and implacable, of desire sad wanderings, of not much won screen, and a rank which was the undeveloped all she sought from men. Impart was go fast rotten in it. No reflection of wrong-doing. The spell which to Semitic blood in custody the mystery of evil, was to me, of the Northern race, fair visualize and in danger of extinction and stunning. Jobson and the rest did not test it, I with my advanced argue immovable go fast but the inveterate despair of it. That which had enthused the adore in Lawson was fair wringing wet my inner. It was almost too pitiful to subtract. As the vegetation crashed down and the men wiped the endeavor from their brows, I seemed to in my opinion want the criminal of fair women and beatific children. I continue that the cry were be in charge of untouchable my cheeks. High-class than subsequent to I opened my mouth to countermand the work, but the position of Jobson, that grim Tishbite, in custody me back.
Max Liebermann (1847-1935),
"Holzhacker im Inneren eines Waldes"
Reference: about-world-religions.blogspot.com
