Berlin bei Nacht


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“Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
Which keeps me pale. Light thickens
And the crow makes wing to the rooky wood;
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
While night’s black agents to their preys do rouse.
Thou marvell’st at my words; but hold thee still.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
So, prithee, go with me.” ~ Macbeth