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The Cruel Needles of Time: Poetry
The Cruel Needles of Time: Poetry
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Man, in his fragility before the night, is sometimes barely able to outline a slight gesture, the imperceptible h of his recollection jumps out of his mouth, a shadow slips down his eyelid, and words are not enough to save the human condition from all that infinity. That is why the song is born? Is that poetry is the humanly possible before the night? Who dictates it?