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How do you say tomorrow in this country? A deaf prince is charmed by the play of lips Clay is rolling at the potters' hips Enter here night must fall since Shadow and calm and the odor of apples Are resting on a wicker fruit-tray like the day In this country how do you say love Or does each word multiplying its power tenfold Flatten out the ideas it expresses Open the way to the seasons the instant Let silence mingle with warmth Flesh and hair hands limbs and ribbons While lifting this pile of trophies You'll lacerate more than one monument And with them more than one barely recognizable clown Standing before the mirror cheeks dulled Who looks with candor over his shoulder At the ashes of the diamonds that vanished yesterday
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Author:Martory, Pierre; Ashbery, John
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:Sep 1, 1993
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