I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron:
Penelope did this too.
And more than once: you can't keep weaving all day
And undoing it all through the night;
...
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A unique and touching poem. Beautifully expressed.
She comnects her predicament her husband running out on her. She dried out her tears on her apron as her ancestors did. It got to me
Even today this practice is going on if people happen to be romantic and sentimental in characters!
ahh....ahH...aHH... AHH CHOOOO! this is old and dusty. it made me sneeze.
I'm almost positive there is not a single person out there who's arms have never lofted to make this gesture! As she says, sometimes there's just nothing else you can do!
Your arms get tired, and the back of your neck gets tight, VERY GOOD,
esta bien esa es una historia muy bonita