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haiku poem

if i should die, think only this of me
this is the ship of pearl
i loathed you
the shadows of the ships
what spiteful chance steals unawares
why are the things that have no death
there is a country full of wine
with joy and wonder
brief on a flying night
up from the meadows rich with corn
my son is dead and i am going blind
high walls and huge

 



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