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prose poetry

from song and dream for ever gone
the ancient songs
there is a country full of wine
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
since i have felt the sense of death
a mist was driving down
the sky
the old songs
i love my hour of wind and light
who loves the rain
earth travails
stern cold man
let us express our baser passions
sleep sweetly in your humble graves

 



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