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The Craftsmen Of The Little Box

 Don't open the little box 
Heaven's hat will fall out of her 

Don't close her for any reason 
She'll bite the trouser-leg of eternity 

Don't drop her on the earth 
The sun's eggs will break inside her 

Don't throw her in the air 
Earth's bones will break inside her 

Don't hold her in your hands 
The dough of the stars will go sour inside her 

What are you doing for God's sake 
Don't let her get out of your sight

Poem by Vasko Popa
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