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The Mystery of the Sky

Coming back from the ball, I sat down at the window and gazed at the sky: it seemed to me the clouds were the huge heads of old men sitting at the table, and someone brought them a white bird all decked out.

A big river crossed the sky. One of the old men looked down at me. He was even going to speak when the spell was broken, leaving the pure twinkling stars.

Max Jacob

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