CLEANED CLOTHES – Tibullus: But you come to us, oh alma Peace, keep up the ear, and fill of apples, the womb of your white robe. BAD WORDS – J. Milton: With words coated ornaments of reason, advised ignoble calm, quiet and slothful. DESERT – Tacitus: They make a desert and call it peace.
WINDOWS IN THE NIGHT – H. Marsman: Let me sleep in the mantle of your hair, and put your dark around my wild heart, banishes the light from the valleys of my eyes, and all unfolds your window at night. Because I’m tired, and the day I hit, with fire and with the wine of her source fails. SMELLS NICE – Aristophanes: Smells harvest, banquets, of Dionysia, flutes and songs, verses of Sophocles and Euripides stanzas. Smells of sheep and strainers, sheep bleating, breasts of women who run the oven, maids intoxicated and jars overturned. FROGS DORMANT – Indian Babe: Peace is when the frogs are sleeping, on the leaves of a water lily. IS THAT WHICH IS – Kuo Hsiang: Let all things be, what it is. Then, there will be peace. ROADS – B. Dylan: How many roads must a man go? How many miles must fly the dove?
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