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def poetry

we break the glass whose sacred wine
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
as it
i am a woman
the ships are lying in the bay
if i should die, think only this of me
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
stand here by my side
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
out of the sparkling sea
calm as that second summer
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor

 



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