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friend poem

gone are the three, those sisters rare
the little white prayers
we break the glass whose sacred wine
the old songs
when, full of warm and eager love
hang no wreath
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
their beautiful hair
have we no shame?
this is the song of youth
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst

 



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