| Road running straight ahead |
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| Heaven / doesn't kill me |
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| Nothing left of the house |
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| Dawn Cherries |
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| Who says my poems are poems? |
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| How admirable — the fine gentleman |
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| Frail, frail, lone-growing bamboo |
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| When torches cast their light |
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| I dip with my hands |
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| Though I know in time |
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