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son poem

i've won the race
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
backward, turn backward
the shadows of the ships
i love the old melodious lays
the poets tell
calm as that second summer
with the meek, brown eyes
mysterious night
day is done
all within and all without me
as a naked man i go
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
among the mountains i wandered

 



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