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“Where is he, the clear one, whose song has died away? Do the poor, who can only wait, feel him among them, the young and joyous one? Does he rise for them, perhaps, at nightfall—Poverty’s evening star?” — Rilke Rainer Maria
Where is he, the clear one,
whose song has died away?
Do the poor, who can only wait,
feel him among them, the young and joyous one?
Does he rise for them, perhaps, at nightfall—Poverty’s evening star?