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The Evening

It was evening.Silence went on rusting its drying
skin upon my face.
There I stood so greedy to catch the instants
The ones slipping between my fingers
As they where glimpsing, dashing, disappearing...
And it scared me when that game turned out childish,
I wish I could have banished fear outside,
I shouted
My throat erupted down a nestling, wet and soggy,
And so awkwardly and ugly it fluttered,so it quivered.
But gradually power and freedom came out of the silence,
And thjen it flew in all directions,
And it bumped in its haste ionto the foreheads
of brainless houses,
Falling down and jumping again and standing rigid...
It gave houses a real start,
They yawned so lasily and swallowed down the rattling echo,
And started mooing so plaintively and sadly.
And boredom whirled like drying autumn-leaves,
Flying over the caps of the roofs,
And so it strove towards where black and dismal
flocks opf raindouds condensed,
Where once a tired and rather reddened eye was blinking.
I saw the Heaven flow away heavily,
Thjere was nothing to come by that time.
I just bid the last day farewell,
Someone touched me so tenderly,
Poor clothes on him, beside me
A cancelled idea was freezing from chill,
So I whispered it to come,
And a lump of my joy growing inside me
and making me feel it,
I caressed it and clasped to my breast,
Night was turning and tossing there on our way,
But we were going to meet it,
And the first day was born behind it

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