O you who parse this lousy PDF
That glitters on an artificial screen,
Trying its best to represent a self—
In you I hope to find simple forgiveness.
For any reader with a love of books,
Both brown and yellow, tattered or preserved,
I hope my vanity and sufferings
Inspire a wealth of humble sympathy.
O sympathy! The viola resounds
With the rich, lower tones of the cello
To sing an old, unwritten melody.
The words we leave in letters on a page
Cannot contain ourselves, yet still we toil
In these absurdities of poetry.
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