The night was dark. The night was deep, without stars. The wind rustled in the trees. The wind was looking for Leah. Jacob buried his face in Leah's breast: - Rachel, Rachel, my wife! Seven years I have waited for you. Long were the days, longer the nights. So many cold moons have embraced my body. - Rachel, Rachel, my wife. Silent was Leah. With thin, bitter lips, she went to her encounter with her son Reuben, Jacob's firstborn. The night was already full of the aroma of the flowers that were waiting for Reuben in the field. Translated by Barnett Zumoff
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