The Names of Georgian Women

  There on the sea sails wandered, And unconcerned by the heat Sycamores blossomed at leisure, Leaves for streets in December.   The market sounds intermingled; On naked heights above Basalt and snow wove light Into rainbow prisms.   A kiosk in the park by the seaside Stood empty and white and silent; The syllabled names of Georgian women Seemed to smell of grapes;  …

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