Jorge Luis Borges

A Patio

At evening they grow weary, the patio's two or three colours. Tonight, the moon, bright circle, fails to dominate space. Patio, channel of sky. The patio is the slope down which sky flows into the house. Serene, eternity waits at the crossroad of stars. It's pleasant to live in the friendly dark of entrance-way, arbour, and cistern.

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