Head of a Woman


headofapeasantwomanwithwhitecap

Stand they as monuments,
to adorn,
Those ideas of trade,
for bread and ale
organs, made of fire
sold, many times,
for reasons they know not
of this primitive curse,
like shadows,upon  the moon,
in the empty towns, eclipsed
darkness prevails in human heart
As their bodies sunk in its plight
The finest gift,in tortured minds!

Kashkin

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