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life poem

do not turn your head
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
see, they return
within my hand i hold
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
as a naked man i go
tell me
uplifting, as the wind blew
melancholy, blue it was
god
high-born race
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
thou unrelenting past
give me

 



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