When the sky is clogged with clouds,
when the roads are empty
and the houses steadfastly silent,
and the fields rain-drenched,
dotted by rouge magpies and jays,
melancholy takes over.
When the goldfinches vanish,
when cats shelter under hedges
and the mist settles on the hillside,
and the gloom of dusk arrives
heralded by the drone of airliners,
melancholy takes over.
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