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Evening, The bleak fields are asleep, My heart alone wakes; The evening in the harbour Down his red sails takes. – Rainer Maria Rilke
Night, guardian of dreams, Now wanders through the land; The moon, a lily white, Blossoms within her hand. – Rainer Maria Rilke Typography
The way the night knows itself with the moon, be that with me. Be the rose nearest to the thorn that I am. – Rumi Typography Print
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