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I Am an Echo I am an echo Of a vanished symphony. My voice is a marvel, Whether it's prayer or blasphemy. A fiddler appears, Saying, I've come from yesterday. He raises his fiddle— His pallid fingers: Soon I will play The prescribed melody That they played long ago By the walls of Jericho. Soon I will play By the walls of Jericho. I want to touch his fiddle To see if it's real. But he is no more, His echo trembles: Here I am, here I am, You don't need what is real. My voice will reach you. Here I am, here I am, Take along my echo To the walls of Jericho. Soon I will play By the walls of Jericho. 481 ,KPV p§ nXTDX"D x tra ,pga mm ay:rp tra p'D w»n p'nx Tixn 7K px omsrs 7X & T » D^S i^x px pms ]jr n ''n 7T ayt^ D ^ I ]ix ^ p^iaix p i - 7a Dyt^ era pxx ?V9 tra t?oaip n 7X ^ 3 nvrm H rnyt? p-H px pms naix .lyaxi pp o^a nyi nxs ^xa nxn 7X - nxrox-a nytyn x to^a Diypnxs iix p^^nxs ix^a x oaip 482 ...

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