Select a dark night and
in a field, unpeopled, naked
dip into gray twilight.
May the air, having fanned, becalm.
May the stars, winking,
in the cold sky slumber on.
Tell the heart not to count its thumps.
Stop in mid-step and listen!
You’re not alone –
The wings of a bird, heavy, sodden,
drift through the fog.
It’s the flight of a predator,
a sovereign avian,
They call that bird Time,
and on its wings is your will,
A passing dream of happiness,
hope’s golden rags.

Innokenty Annensky


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