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life poem

death's nobility again
i went up and down the streets
a little peach in the orchard grew
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
calm as that second summer
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
when night drifts along the streets of the city
i have seen the proudest stars
i am in love with high far-seeing places
in halls of sleep you wandered by
birds against the april wind
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white

 



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