In Quiet Breath
 
By Josephine Cardin
 
 
"Let us yield then, you and I,
To the waftings, calm and sweet,
As their breeze-blown lullaby
Sways the gold grass at your feet.
 
And, when night begins to fall
From the black oaks, darkening,
In the nightingale’s soft call
Our despair will, solemn, sing."
 
~ From In Muted Tone, by Paul Verlaine
 

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