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Given up to the vigils of knowing and seeking,
Intolerably wanting to touch every crest. 
Go back of each mountain into the stilled
Frozen seas of their wilderness.
The day when we were parched with thirst
It was you who discovered the medlar. 
How we robbed the tree of its fruit
For the taste of its happiness! 
Do you remember? Such distances!
Such echoes! So many towers!
And the great river we walked by
So many miles! All that happened!
Such thickness of leaves should you turn to the legends,
The Sieges, the Plague, the Wars of Religion,
The courtships, the courts of love
And the olives and lizards by the clamorous river
Drowning our voices as it drowned theirs
That had their eyes once and their bodies,
Stones that they threw, songs that they sang,
And their kisses.
Do you remember those discarded old bridges
Still sustaining substantially
Spans for mere marguerites to take,
In such slow travel, along with the poppies,
Where wagons and horsemen once went?
And that army of sheep back from some grassland,
And their heat, so close-pressed, though they
Were new-shaven, the tremolo of their baas
And their dogs, the donkeys, and shepherds?
Then there was that yellow wild flower
Casting up such fresh gusts of fragrance
That it, broken by the night-singing of birds,
Shall sum up for the rest of my days
An unsullied country, almost beyond the stars.

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14 Amghi