The sun is blazing torridly,
And the wind piping drearily,
I'm about to lose my mind,
Because I'm running out of time.
Battling with the winnowed tastes of the ages,
One can see the dimness of my sealed eye and soul,
I'm no longer fluent as a rill, that wanders silver-footed down a hill,
Because I'm swept off the field of battle...
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