Asters (Liudas Gira Poems)
Out there beside the garden wallI glimpse belated asters blowing;Yet I don't mourn the summer's goingOr weep the ruin of ...
Out there beside the garden wallI glimpse belated asters blowing;Yet I don't mourn the summer's goingOr weep the ruin of ...
Mine is a meadow of people's woes,Mine is a meadow where sweet grass grows! Scythe, clear a way, dear scythe, hurray!Mournfully ...
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