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memorial poem

you are clear
he's gone
the air is like a butterfly
i am old and blind
come down at dawn from windless hills
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
soft as the bed in the earth
she limps with halting painful pace
since, if you stood by my side today
babylon-where i go dreaming
i have heard that a certain princess
why do
i went up and down the streets

 



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