Cypress Tree
In the corner a budding
Cypress tree
with leaves sailing in the wind,
Making the place fresh
around ole houses,
Before Christ until the war,
Like happy children.
Columns and old temples,
White, shining in the sun,
and statues half-broken
What are they saying
about the old heroes and wisemen,
Wards and battles
and about the teenagers
dancing at the disco?
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