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The Gardener XX: Day After Day He Comes

Day after day he comes and goes
away.
    Go, and give him a flower from my
hair, my friend.
    If he asks who was it that sent it, I
entreat you do not tell him my name—
for he only comes and goes away.
    He sits on the dust under the tree.
    Spread there a seat with flowers and
leaves, my friend.
    His eyes are sad, and they bring
sadness to my heart.
    He does not speak what he has in
mind; he only comes and goes away.

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