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anniversary poem

a look is but a ray
as a naked man i go
i wonder where you live
it tells of good old times
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
birds against the april wind
she must go back, she said
there is a city, builded by no hand
under a spreading chestnut tree
world that changes under my hand
in the dark and peace of my final bed
the stars fell from heaven

 



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