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Joseph Josephides
The Window
Stretch your hand and open the window, maybe a sunbeam drops in,
Open the window, perhaps a person in rush drops a glance inside,
Open the window, maybe the ball of the children shows up
Open the window, even if a wave of dust, of hail, invades,
Open the window, even if the city falls asleep,
Stretch your hand and open for us the window. In its place there will be a painting
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