Come into my garden, said the women. Under my trees, come hold the wind in your hands. Morning is born, come drink with me to its health. Every branch is a flute, every flower the first.
Come into my garden, said the woman. Dawn flattens into mid-morning, mid-summer knows no darkness. Why suffer the traffic, why waste time hurrying? Come into my garden.
Come let me wash your hands in the fountain, let me offer you roses behind the high walls. I've taken off my sandals to stand on the green lawn: why shouldn't you too?
Come into my garden, said the evening. So long to decide! But before a step forward the gate swung shut. I am sorry, said the woman, but it's past my bedtime. And the moonlight went into the garden.
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