Anyone2.com
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REQUIEM On a steep hill where pine trees grow, where the acacia blossoms blow, Breezes sweeping from the sea, Play their music in each tree, Now that wind-song calls to me, just as it did so long ago. Where I thrilled to Nature's show, Watched the dawn's light swiftly flow, Upward and across the sky, Blaze of golden sun on high, Then to sink and quickly die, Turning the western sky aglow.
