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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=581585" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Variations On Nothing</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=581585" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">That negligible bit of sand which slides<br>Without a sound and settles in the hourglass, <br>And the fleeting impressions on the fleshy-pink, <br>The perishable fleshy-pink, of a cloud...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=581585" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then a hand that turns over the hourglass, <br>The going back for flowing back, of sand, <br>The quiet silvering of a cloud<br>In the first few lead-gray seconds of dawn...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=581585" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The hand in shadow turned the hourglass, <br>And the negligible bit of sand which slides<br>And is silent, is the only thing now heard, <br>And, being heard, doesn't vanish in the dark.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Giuseppe+Ungaretti">Giuseppe Ungaretti</a></strong></div>

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