Song To Death

Gerrit Achterberg

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That I may perish,
death, make me sweet;
I am a body without name,
take it, when you must;
the one who has gone before me,
possesses my blood

Death, make that the earth is good,
where she lies;
give us the same kind of weight,
because I am helped,
and with her matter in equipoise
when rising;
we were together but one poem,
do it because of this madness,
do it with eyes closed.

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