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it tells of good old times
when, full of warm and eager love
one with you
it was the autumn of the year
my true love from her pillow rose
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
i saw with open eyes
risen from the dead
perhaps it is no matter that you died
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
full of tears
pushing out, struggling vainly
i bid them all farewell

 



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