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Let the heart’s pain slack off
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The arctic blasts say fight.
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Sun makes the day new.
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Rilke wrote, “That I gently wipe away the look of suffered injustice sometimes hinders the pure motion of spirits a little.”
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I’ve oft returned to this thought,
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I would love to live
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And in the mirror is a fire
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I contemplate
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that’s why we say
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Do man’s visions last?
