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twentythree :

Bring Me the Sunflower

Bring me the sunflower so I can transplant it

Here in my own field burned by salt-spray,

So it can show all day to the blue reflection of the sky

The anxiety of its golden face.

Darker things yearn for a clarity,

Bodies fade and exhaust themselves in a flood

Of colors, as colors do in music. To vanish,

Therefore, is the best of all good luck.

Bring me the plant that leads us

Where blond transparencies rise up

And life evaporates like an essence;

Bring me the sunflower sent mad with light.

Eugenio Montale


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