Lowry, Malcolm: Nocturne
Nocturne (Angol)This evening Venus signs alone And homeward feathers stir like silk Like the dress of multitudinous ghost The pinions tear through a sky like milk. Seagulls all soon to be turned to stone That seeking I lose beyond the trail In the woods that I and my ignorance own Where together we walk on our hands and knees Together go walking beneath the pale Of a beatiful evening loved the most, And yet this evening loved the most, And yet this evening is my jail And policeman glisten in the trees.
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