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The house where I was born (09)

 And then the day came
When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats,
The evocation of Ruth “when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.
” I did not need to search for the meaning Of these words, For it was in me since childhood, I had only to recognize and to love it When it came back from the depths of my life.
What could I take From the evasive maternal presence If not the feeling of exile and tears That clouded that gaze searching to find In things close by the place forever lost?

by Yves Bonnefoy
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