Memories (Lower New York City at noon hour) (Marya Zaturenska Poems)
There is a noise, and then the crowded herdOf noon-time workers flows into the street.My soul, bewildered and without retreat,Closes ...
There is a noise, and then the crowded herdOf noon-time workers flows into the street.My soul, bewildered and without retreat,Closes ...
Having so rich a treasurey, so fine a hordOf beauty water-bright before my eyes,I plucked the daisy only, simple and ...
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