“You do see me crossing the meadow stiff and dead from the mist? I long for that home, that home I've never had, and without any hope that I'll ever be able to reach it. For such a home, never touched, I carry that longing that will never die, like that meadow dies stiff and dead from the mist. You do see me crossing it, full of dread?” HomeMistDo You See Book:Oppressive Light: Selected Poems by Robert Walser Source: Oppressive Light: Selected Poems by Robert Walser