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The Craftsmen Of The Little Box
Don't open the little box
Heaven's hat will fall out of her
Don't close her for any reason
She'll bite the trouser-leg of eternity
Don't drop her on the earth
The sun's eggs will break inside her
Don't throw her in the air
Earth's bones will break inside her
Don't hold her in your hands
The dough of the stars will go sour inside her
What are you doing for God's sake
Don't let her get out of your sight
poem
by
Vasko Popa
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