of mere being - ned rorem lyrics
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the palm at the end of the mind
beyond the last thought, rises
in the bronze distance
a gold*feathered bird
sings in the palm, without human meaning
without human feeling, a foreign song
you know then that it is not the reason
that makes us happy or unhappy
the bird sings. its feathers shine
the palm stands on the edge of sp*ce
the wind moves slowly in the branches
the bird’s fire*fangled feathers dangle down
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