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lyric poetry

a very remarkable history this is
when the wind works against us in the dark
gaily through the fields we danced
brother, i am fire
there is a city, builded by no hand
out of me unworthy and unknown
let us express our baser passions
i reside at table mountain
who will be naming the wind
friend, whose smile has come to be
i am fevered
stuff of the moon
why so sad my lovely one?
the pale day drowses on the western steep

 



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