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An dibab

An dibab

THE SORTING-OUT

 

At the beginning, from the earth,

The best cider comes out.

Cream rises to the surface

On a bucketful of milk.

Our nicest fantasies,

From the cellar of our memory,

Most often pass,

Through the first doorway.

 

1962.

Read this poem in breton
Translated by Lenora Timm
 

"""Va chas paour"""
 
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