| Old men and boys search the wet garbage with fingers |
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| A White curtain turning in an open window |
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| Our nightingale, the clock |
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| The Imperious dawn comes |
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| All night the wind blew |
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| Both daughters had married well |
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| For an Inscription over the Entrance to a Subway Station |
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| My hair was caught in the wheels of a clock |
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| You think yourself a woman |
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| How shall we mourn you who are killed and wasted |
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