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| ανάπαυση ~ rest 013 ©fourteenth |
III
The string quintet is playing. I walk home through warm forests with the
ground springy under me,
curl up like an embryo, fall asleep, roll weightless into the future, suddenly
feel that the plants have thoughts.
from Schubertiana
by Tomas Tranströmer
translated by Robert Fulton
thanks to tuvala
