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In Andalusia I sat down and wept;
in Casablanca I remembered then, remembered
cold, grey seas and grassy dunes, the grey-green marshes
and the silence of the north
(a far-off bird, a summer insect,
breaking waves upon a distant beach: a lamb calling).
Catch a plane! Go home! they said. A plane?
I’d need a time machine.

(from FIN DE MILLENNIUM)