... gleamings of slowed hands Meditations have words that are soundless; How I love to seek them in the silence! It is necessary only that, Night should forget itself more fully, Night should forget itself faster Among its sparse street lights, Round the corner Like a forsaken house... Should forget itself among the quiet dining Rooms above you, in the lilac-colored… That from the tablecloth the trembling Circle should not let down its yellow Overflows, and gleamings of slowed hands Should separate gray threads there, And that you with anguish should separate These threads one after the other, should Separate and afterwards roll them up, And with lilac openness the needle Should go after the shining thread… And then, unconcernedly bright, With the quiet squeaking of straw Hinges, carefully pinning the sheets, There you too, Virtue, should fall sleep Between confusedly tender skeins ... ~ Text: "The Work Basket" by the Russian poet, Innokenty Annensky (1856-1909) ~ Image from Docks of New York, Joseph von Sternberg, 1928