Finally his melancholia dissolved
Into a deep reverence for all lost things
The phlegma of his younger days
Resolved his stubborn heart
Into a patient steady beating
So he could walk the world
With sanguine blood-shot eyes
Crying out in tender anger
You who would never
Abandon me come near
I have done what you have asked me
But there is one thing left to do
Which I alone invented
From all you taught me
About planting seeds
And shearing sheep
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