Stanley Jasspon Kunitz quotes

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Already the iron door of the north
Clangs open: birds, leaves, snows
Your son, whirling between two wars,
In the Gemara of your gentleness,
Him, steeped in the odor of ponds, whose indomitable love
Kept me in chains.
"The papers are delivered every day;
I am alone and never shed a tear."
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