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spanish poem

royal feast was done
from song and dream for ever gone
i walk down the garden paths
are you awake?
and how could you dream of meeting
one sweetly solemn thought
i never knew the earth had so much gold
the sky
my son is dead and i am going blind
wheel me down by the meadow
i am old and blind
what spiteful chance steals unawares
as i lie roofed in, screened in

 



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