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haiku poetry

pharaoh, king of egypt's land
my son is dead and i am going blind
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
it was the autumn of the year
this is the ship of pearl
why then, must we see?
though i am little as all little things
to the passionate lover
and how could you dream of meeting
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
just now
give me hunger
a pen of steel
therefore i may not

 



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