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Among the dreamy pines
As evening light is slowly dying
And a lonely bell still chimes
So many songs, so many stories
The stony hills recall . . .
Around her heart my city carries
A lonely ancient…
Again the herd throngs the village gateways
and dust rises up from the dirt roads.
And farther still a pair of clappers
keep pace with the lengthening shadows.
Evening descends, evening descends.
A…