Abrahams Oak

In the last summer the soul has risen -
in velvet of tents of Mamre's oak-grove...
- Oh, hail! Earth ... in the luxury of grasses
I will fall... forgetting myself...

- Stay with us ... - Droned foliage.
- Come with me... - Lips of gray fog whispered...
and dew fell
in boundless calm of being...


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