Turn my soul to stone


And the stone word fell
on my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.
Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again --
Unless ... summer’s ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I’ve foreseen this
brilliant day, deserted house.

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