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Слушать(AI)Fairy Tale 2
Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers,
And every bloom becomes a bud again,
Shut and sealed up against the golden
Of bees that hover in the velvet hours…. Now a
Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers,
Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam,
Proclaims the Queen of Night. From their
The dark Princess fluttering, wing their
To their old Mother, in her huge old home.
Katherine Mansfield
Kathleen Mansfield Murry (née Beauchamp; 14 October 1888 – 9 January 1923) was a prominent modernist writer who was born and brought up in New Z
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In the Rangitaki Valley
valley of waving broom, O lovely, lovely light, O hear of the world, red-gold Breast high in the blossom I stand;
Loneliness
Now it is Loneliness who comes at Instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread, I watch her softly blowing out the light
Sanary
Her little hot room looked over the Through a stiff palisade of glinting palms, And there she would lie in the heat of the day, Her dark head resting upon her arms,
Song by the Window Before Bed
Little Star, little Star, Come down quick The Moon is a bogey-man; He'll eat you certain if he can