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At Dusk


At dusk, the tale starts,
Light recedes from around,
I feel ajar.

Pour out of me an invisible dream,
A verse too old, a melody;
I lose all flesh, radiate;
Whatever remains, escapes,
Along a river stream, I stroll.

The moon emerges,
Proves again its showmanship
Upon the row of boats

And the water below;
I float, sink and float.

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