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Rainer Maria Rilke - Pont Du Carrousel
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That blind man by the bridge, who is as gray
As a forgotten country`s boundary stone,
Might be the thing most constant and alone
Around which stars are turning far away:
A centerpoint in isolate repose,
While all about him postures, strays, and flows. 

Perhaps he shows a pathway to the just,
Beside which other paths look snarled and curled,
Or keeps an entrance to the underworld,
Invisible in superficial dust.
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