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To this passing show ,
I belong
to this moment ;
Somewhere,
in this parade of clowns,
singing to the music
as old and unchanging as the Time itself ,
I weave my way,
through the crowded streets,
these narrow lanes
of groping multitudes ;
Seeking
what everybody does,
and despair in disappointment
at every turn ,
only to discover ,
Endlessly unfolding
narrower lanes ;
Yet too afraid to give up ,
having come a long way ,
and knowing not
what else to seek,
I sing my way ,
with the passing show
down the ever-winding lanes
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21 Jan 1961
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