Mention119385
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so:text | How can I rest in the days of my slowness? I've become a strange piece of flesh, Nervous and cold, bird-furtive, whiskery, With a cheek soft as a hound's ear. What's left is light as a seed; I need an old crone's knowing. (en) |
so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Theodore_Roethke |
so:description | Words for the Wind (1958) (en) |
qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context58334 |
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Triples where Mention119385 is the object (without rdf:type)
qkg:Quotation111662 | qkg:hasMention |
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