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This poem is taken from PN Review 163, Volume 31 Number 5, May - June 2005.

Four Poems James Lindesay

Die Schöne Müllerin

it wasn't her fault
it was raining don't
you forget and if
he had followed her in
who knows the trouble
he'd have saved himself
(and her) you know all
that wild talk all those
embarrassing flowers
it was frightening
upsetting the way
he would spend whole nights
there staring down at
the brook just singing
no wonder he drowned
...


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