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haiku poem

before the solemn bronze saint
in their ragged regimentals
the ancient songs
i know not where
the mountains they are silent folk
she was a beauty in the days
there were three in the meadow by the brook
now that i have cooled to you
gone are the three, those sisters rare
that year
among the mountains i wandered
with her hair flaying wildly
in the dark and peace of my final bed
this is the song of youth

 



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