“The end comes here unconsidered” by Maria Virhov

the end comes here unconsidered
scatters rags around the ditches
embittering the marble runs
and pouring wine and gleeds and gold

ghosts reap what has been sown
storms rip what has been blown
the scarce human sources
lie diverted from the spouts

oh hail, you trembling terrors,
I greet your petty wind
I celebrate your yellow muzzles
and start with you across the valley

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