Foto: Sergio Vallé Duarte
The blue mist of after-rain
fills all the trees;
the sunlight gilds the tops
of the poplar spires, far off,
behind the houses.
Here a branch sways
and there
a sparrow twitters.
The curtain's hem, rose-emboidered,
flutters, and half reveals
a brunt-red chimney-pot.
The quiet in the room
bears patiently
a footfall on the street.
Från "Cones" av Frank Stuart Flint (1885-1960)
En smakebit på søndag v. 46 2024
1 timme sedan
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