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 Nay, why reproach each other, be unkind, 
For there's no plane on which we two may meet? 
Let's both forgive, forget, for both were blind, 
And life is of a day, and time is fleet.
And I am fire, swift to flame and burn, Melting with elements high overhead, While you are water in an earthly urn, All pure, but heavy, and of hue like lead.

by Claude McKay
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