Britta Komjathy


Coarse the rush-mat roof Sheltering the harvest hut Of the autumn rice-field. And my sleeves are grow- ing wet With the moisture dripping through. -Fujiwara no Teika I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted to the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, -the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names. -Emily Dickinson I want to kill all the crows and sleep with my lover.

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