Incognito

Every day there is an hour: I doff the royal clothes, take in hand the wanderer's staff and leave my own room .
I meander through the market places and streets, past fenced-in houses; every urchin throws a stone, every dog barks at me .
Strange door-latches burn, scald; sharp stones cause wounds — more than one king has already roamed about incognito .
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Joseph Rolnik
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