søndag 1. april 2012

Out of the wood of thoughts that grows by night - To be cut down by the sharp axe of light,- Out of the night, two cocks together crow, Cleaving the darkness with a silver blow;And bright before my eyes twin trumpeters stand,Heralds of splendor, one at either hand, Each facing each as in a coat of arms; The milkers lace boots up at the farms...


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