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Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.
In vain shall a poet seek the mother of the songs of his heart.
Once I said to a poet, “We shall not know your worth until you die.”
And he answered saying, “Yes, death is always the revealer. And if indeed you would know my worth it is that I have more in my heart than upon my tongue, and more in my desire than in my hand.”
If you sing of beauty though alone in the heart of the desert you will have an audience.
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