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religious poem

out of the sparkling sea
what spiteful chance steals unawares
he came and took me by the hand
the snow whispers about me
the mountains they are silent folk
a little peach in the orchard grew
a mist was driving down
full of tears
noises that strive to tear
so lost
i never knew the earth had so much gold
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
i despise my friends more than you
i am old and blind

 



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