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“You who roots in the Sun;
You who lights up, in shining serenity, within a wheel
that earthly excellence fails to comprehend.

You are enfolded
in the weaving of divine mysteries.

You redden like the dawn
and You burn: flame of the Sun.”

– Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179), Viriditas



There is an enchantment, which words can’t convey, that drapes herself across the land – in an Irish summer gloaming. 

A melodic song wafts in, through a gladly opened door, carried on a mild evening wind – in an Irish summer gloaming. 

Barely ten when the light truly fades and the grasses dance in the fields – in an Irish summer gloaming. 

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