"Hope is not optimism, which expects things to turn out well, but something rooted in the conviction that there is good worth working for."
"Once off the bush The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not. -Blackberry picking"
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Source: Seamus Heaney (2014). “Death of a Naturalist: Poems”, p.14, Macmillan
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