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Published on Jan 10, 2011
Amidst the streams of the river, the flow was achanging And autumn rain unfolded its charm.
With the thorns of absence So sweet to your skin - In the dusty veils of morning, You had forgiven all bearing. The land blessed the manifold faces of your love. The Garden lies asleep, the grave unclouded And we dance about a fallen sun. Night-moths on her wings: A staggering moon.