8 November 1913, by Donald Michael Thomas The sun fills my room, /
Yellow dust drifts aslant. /
I wake up and remember: /
This is your saint’s day.
That’s why even the snow /
Outside ...
8th November 1913, by A. S. Kline Sunlight fills my room /
With hot dust, lucent, grey. /
I wake, and I remember: /
Today is your saint’s day. /
That’s why even the snow /
Is...
November 8, 1913, by Andrey Kneller Sunlight filled the room with splendor, /
Yellow wafting dust fell near. /
I woke up and I remembered /
That today’s your name day, dear. /
Fo...