Anthony O Daly

Since your limbs were laid out

The stars do not shine!

The fish do not leap

In the waves!

On our meadows the dew

Is not sweet in the morn,

For O Daly is dead!

Not a word can be said!

Not a flower can be born!

Not a tree have a leaf!

Anthony!

After you

There is nothing to do!

There is nothing but grief!

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