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christmas poetry

a flying word from here and there
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
with the sunset
the body may confine
still thirteen years
hang no wreath
when i looked into your eyes
above them all, looking down
awful truths these be
sadly speaking
i am in love with high far-seeing places
among the mountains i wandered
i have heard that a certain princess
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree

 



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