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The Name
They say a thousand words,
And then they speak your name.
A flight of passing birds
Are all their thousand words,
And they are all the same
But one — That is your name.
I startle when they say
Your name; when that is said,
I watch it fly away
With all the words they say,
And wish a net were spread
To catch the name they said.
- ↑ poème publié dans The Atlantic Monthly", juillet 1922, p. 789 voir sur Hathi Trust
