id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
chapter-121		chapter-121			.txt	text/plain	771	45	87	Where the fierce old mother endlessly cries for her castaways, Miles walking, the sound of breaking waves the other side of me, As the ocean so mysterious rolls toward me closer and closer, I too but signify at the utmost a little washd-up drift, A few sands and dead leaves to gather, Gather, and merge myself as part of the sands and drift. We murmur alike reproachfully rolling sands and drift, knowing not why, These little shreds indeed standing for you and me and all. You friable shore with trails of debris, You fish-shaped island, I take what is underfoot, I too am but a trail of drift and debris, I too leave little wrecks upon you, you fish-shaped island. Breathe to me while I hold you close the secret of the murmuring I envy. Whoever you are, we too lie in drifts at your feet.	./cache/chapter-121.txt	./txt/chapter-121.txt