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To the workplace of the brother,

And the sister’s blue-flowered meadow.

“Set thy foot upon the threshold,

Then upon the porch’s flooring,

On the honeyed floor advance thou,

Next the inner rooms to enter,

Underneath these famous rafters,

Underneath this roof so lovely.

“It was in this very winter,

In the summer just passed over,

Sang the floor composed of duckbones,

That thyself should stand upon it,

And the golden roof resounded

That thou soon should’st walk beneath it,

And the windows were rejoicing,

For thy sitting at the windows.

“It was in this very winter,

In the summer just passed over,

Often rattled the door-handles,

For the ringed hands that should close them,

And the stairs were likewise creaking

For the fair one robed so grandly,

And the doors stood always open,

And their opener thus awaited.

“It was in this very winter,

In the summer just passed over,

That the room around has turned it,

Unto those the room who dusted,

And the hall has made it ready

For the sweepers, when they swept it,

And the very barns were chirping

To the sweepers as they swept them.

“It was in this very winter,

In the summer just passed over,

That the yard in secret turned it

To the gatherer of the splinters,

And the storehouses bowed downward,

For the wanderer who should enter,

Rafters bowed, and beams bent downward

To receive the young wife’s wardrobe.