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Jeanne`s translation

by Dele Campbell 

Posted: 10 June 2006
Word Count: 46

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Escaping sudden sickroom sobs
I notice through the pane
A perfect day of bluster
while they cry in vain

Spring gusts thrash the gilded trees
Someone's having fun
Someone’s racing scudding clouds
in the April sun
You must think you're flying
A perfect day for dying.

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