Melancholy Song
Slowly, softly, so quietly and quickly
that the thunder took refuge ruefully,
the evening everywhere ended.
Time …today, tomorrow…tumbled,
bound beyond beauty, between
purity poured poorly
and
listless life loved long.
Melancholy Song
Slowly, softly, so quietly and quickly
that the thunder took refuge ruefully,
the evening everywhere ended.
Time …today, tomorrow…tumbled,
bound beyond beauty, between
purity poured poorly
and
listless life loved long.
In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.
Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.
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