To Stanislav Vinaver
Winter music played
Oh you feature of dust and flint
Farewell of the dream behind the crown of my head
When it touched me with a requiem
Time takes and leaves
The bitter forest to become blue
In the middle of eternity within an inch of
Unreality, a bird, and a cloud
You dust-bird of the Sun's spell
May the jump made out of ash and the flight
Be the only guide
To the effort of sense and growth
Of essence into chaos
When her voice arose.
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