The moon was still high. The sky's transformations-the metamorphoses of its multitudinous vaults in ever more masterfully described configurations-were unending. Like a silver astrolabe, the sky had opened up that night its bewitching internal mechanism, exhibiting in endless cycles the gilded mathematics of its cogs and wheels. (Bruno Schulz)

The moon was still high. The sky's transformations-the metamorphoses of its multitudinous vaults in ever more masterfully described configurations-were unending. Like a silver astrolabe, the sky had opened up that night its bewitching internal mechanism, exhibiting in endless cycles the gilded mathematics of its cogs and wheels.

Bruno Schulz

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astrolabe bewitching high mathematics mechanism metamorphosis moon night silver sky cogs wheels

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