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autumn poetry

have you seen walking through the village
dear wife
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
those black eyes i once so praised
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
with the meek, brown eyes
you are my companion
where shall i find you
it was the autumn of the year
i am singing to you
melancholy, blue it was
the fragrance came

 



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