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Wir wissen nicht Wenn wir uns verabschieden Denn morgen Gehört nur Gott im Himmel Wir wissen nicht
Nou pa konnen Lè nou di orevwa Paske demen Se pou sèlman Bondye nan syèl la Nou pa konnen Si se pa yon dènye vizyon
Nous ne savons pas Quand nous disons adieu Parce que demain N'appartient qu'à Dieu Nous ne savons pas
We do not know When we say goodbye Because tomorrow Only belongs to God in the sky
Nou vini Nou flannen Epi nou pati Se tout sa nou konnen. Sou latè nou vini
We come We roam And we go That’s all we know. We come on earth We roam, we surf
THE EPITAPH OF AN ABDICATOR
Paul Williams By Grayson They never knew me. The granddaughters with the brown hair and hazel eyes.
Dearest Alan, Sharp tongue, Sharper wit, Fervent spirit. I think of you in C-SPAN, I think of you in my walkman.
When my grandma died, I volunteered to write her eulogy Because I knew that would help me deal with the loss of her And help others as well.
If I were to write you a eulogy I would start by saying You are not dead I still see you in the mirror In the smile lines painted permanently onto my face I carry you in the baggage under my eyes
Moments conceived of sporadic gathering
Tattoo after “Slam, Dunk, & Hook” The skin that I am in is my own, It is something that I could never loan. The bark on my bones, the shell on my back,
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I. For the first time in a long while, I went to my jewelry box, a place Of cameos and my mother’s earrings, And took out my necklace of delicate gold And settled it on my collarbone
Beautiful, submissive, and enduring sufferer! You were the lamb imprisoned within a den of wolves. Abandoned in this world, you understood cruelty’s impermanence. The deepest admiration from my heart’s deepest vaults you summoned.