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Winter’s Ghost,
by Tamara Rendell
Autumn moon
incautious in the dark river
Winter’s ghost walks
with a covered face
and silver bones wait in all animals
to be bone cloth upon her shoulder
wait for her happiness in that they are silver
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An extract from the Bhagavad Gita,
trans. Sir Edwin Arnold
Never the Spirit was born!
The Spirit shall cease to be never!
Never was time it was not,
End and beginning are dreams.
Birthless and deathless remaineth the spirit forever.
Death has not touched it at all,
Dead though the house of it seems.
Nay! but as one layeth
A worn-out robe away.
And taking another sayeth:
This will I wear today,
So putteth by the spirit
Lightly its garment of flesh
And passeth on the inherit
A residence afresh.
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