2018-162
De Mi caja de notas
Sextidi
6
Fructidor
CCXXXIV
« From far, from eve and morning and yon twelve-winded sky, the stuff of life to knit blew hither: here am I. Now, for a breath I tarry nor yet disperse apart... »
« From far, from eve and morning and yon twelve-winded sky, the stuff of life to knit blew hither: here am I. Now, for a breath I tarry nor yet disperse apart... »