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Poem	Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the silence will set out Tireless traveler Like the beam of a lightless star Then I will no longer Find myself in life as in a strange garment Surprised at the earth And the love of one woman And then shamelessness of men As today writing after three days of rain Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease And bowing not knowing to what
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