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144 ʯʣʩʸ˦ʥʶ ʨʩʰ ... ʭʥʸʷ ʸʩʮ ʳʩʥʠ ʯʷʥʷ ʯʹʨʰʲʮ ʩʣ ʯʥʠ , ʪʩʦ ʯʩʩʥʥʲʶ ʯʥʠ ʭʲʰ ʹʨˌʫ ʦˋ ʩʥʦˋ ... ʶ ʨʩʰ ʯʩʡ ʪʩʠ ʯ‫ٷ‬ʮ ʨʩʮ ʯʣʩʸ˦ʥ " ʭʥʸ ʣʹʩʰʸʩʥ˦ " , ʪˋʦ ʯʩʩʷ ʨʩʮ ʯʣʩʸ˦ʥʶ ʨʩʰ ʯʩʡ ʪʩʠ . ʯ˦ʩʥʠ ʨʰ‫ٷ‬ʤ ʪʩʦ ʨʢʩʥʥʲʢ " ˝ˋʸʨʱ " ʯʩʠ " ʬʲ " ʯʣʑ ʩʩ ʲʨʶʸˋʥʥʹʸˋ˦ ʨʩʮ ʨʷˋʨ ʭʥʶ . ʱ ' ʵʸˋʥʥʹ ʯʲʥʥʲʢ ʨʫˋʰ ʩʣ ʦʩʠ , ʨʫʲʰʷ ˋ ʯʥ˦ ʨʩʮʲʢ ʱˌʣ ʩʥʥ . ʯʣʩʸ˦ʥʶ ʨʩʰ ʨʫʲʰ ʩʣ ʨʩʮ ʯʩʡ ʪʩʠ . ʩʣ ʯʥʠ ʬʲʢ ʯʥʠ ʷʩʬʩʩʤ ʯʲʰ‫ٷ‬ʦ ʢʲʨ , ʸʥʣʩʱ ʯʨʬˋ ʯʩʠ ʭʩʷʥʱ˝ ʩʥʥ . ʨʫʲʬʹ ʩʥʦˋ ʯʲʥʥʲʢ ʨʩʰ ʸʩʮ ʨʬˌʥʥ ʸʹ˦ʠ , ʸʲʣʩʬ ʯʩʩʷ ʨʩʰ ʭʩʥʸʨ ʪʩʠ ʯʲʥʥ . 145 DISCONTENTED . . . And people look at me strangely, so, go have a good cry . . . I’m not happy with my furnished room, I’m not happy with anything. Swung back and forth today on the El strap to the rhythm of worn-out Jews. The night was dark as the mood of a slave, I am not pleased with these nights. And the days are holy and yellowed, like the verses in an old prayer book. Perhaps I would not be so disheartened if I didn’t dream of poems. ...

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