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Poem

Rune Christiansen

THE LONELY CLOUDS BLOW ACROSS THE SKY

Fatigue at a window overlooking a rain-soaked park, you lean out panting after the night's labour, the notebook with its scribbles lies open in the frame, the little cactus has capsized, and the clouds – they are gliding all over the public sector.

SÅ ÖDSLIGT MOLNEN PÅ FÄSTET GÅ

SÅ ÖDSLIGT MOLNEN PÅ FÄSTET GÅ

Tretthet ved et vindu med utsikt til en regnvåt park, du lener deg ut og puster etter nattens arbeid, kladdeboken med skribleriene ligger oppslått i karmen, den lille kaktusen har veltet, og skyene – de glir over alt det offentlige.
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THE LONELY CLOUDS BLOW ACROSS THE SKY

Fatigue at a window overlooking a rain-soaked park, you lean out panting after the night's labour, the notebook with its scribbles lies open in the frame, the little cactus has capsized, and the clouds – they are gliding all over the public sector.

THE LONELY CLOUDS BLOW ACROSS THE SKY

Fatigue at a window overlooking a rain-soaked park, you lean out panting after the night's labour, the notebook with its scribbles lies open in the frame, the little cactus has capsized, and the clouds – they are gliding all over the public sector.
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