Dusk, My Monsignor
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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Look at the Dusk, my Monsignor
For the Dusk in its silence
Speaks, my Monsignor.
Rare the birds fly past
Now; the sea without a sound
Round.
Except for some rare rustling
Above
the churches in the
Ancient town
Ring fading day as things that
Fade transform and change
Away
Almost, my Monsignor, each day.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş