My Heart Is with Your Dews, Homeland
Esther Raab
1923
My heart is with your dews, homeland,
At night, above fields of nettles
And to the scent of cypresses and wet thistle
A hidden wing shall I spread out.
Soft sand-cradles are your roads
Spread out between fences of acacias,
As though across pure silk
Forever shall I move on them
Gripped by an unresolved spell,
And transparent skies whisper
Over…
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