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poem and quote

thoughts through my head
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
see i give myself to you
braided and woven
a thousand silent years ago
i cannot always feel his greatness
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
old wine to drink
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares

 



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