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It dreams in the deepest sleep, it remembers the last storm or it feels the far storm and the lash of sea rain.
It is never mournful or wise, and takes the magical misrule of the sleep world with strong tolerance, its depth is not moved from where the green sun fails.
It told me to be faithful in storm, patient of fools, tolerant of memories and the muttering prophets, it is needful to have night in one's body.
—a shortening of Robinson Jeffers' poem of the same name.
