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Poem	Let me stop here. Let me, too, look at nature awhile. The brilliant blue of the morning sea, of the cloudless sky, the yellow shore; all lovely, all bathed in light. Let me stand here. And let me pretend I see all this (I really did see it for a minute when I first stopped) and not my usual day-dreams here too, my memories, those images of sensual pleasure. trans. by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
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