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Hasier Agirre

We, the Basques, are a doubly chosen people. The north by the French and the south by the Spaniards.

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Chosen People

Chosen People
because God needs
a fine example to
show to the human race
righteousness translates
into his blessings
and thieveries, his retributions

and above all, that he is
full of love and compassion
for what he has created

but no nonsense when it comes
to polishing them up for
a place in the heavens

Chosen too are those
given only the opportunity
to watch, read or experience first hand
God's save the human race dramas

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The Chosen People

where i live
race issue is
bantered about
like a pop song

it is their eyes
in their acts
even more clear
when situation warrants
it in words

they sound
like two sharpened
swords clinking
in a duel

the sound is
so ominuous
one is left with
sleepless nights
most nights
half a soul
to live with

where i live
the race issue is
all about the chosen people
and the 'messiah'

the chosen ones
reserve the rights to land
the 'messiah' with all his sacrifices
can be led to the cross
when situation warrants it

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Chosen People

Resolute beauty guards the gates
Stairways leading thru the desert
Children searching for their fate
Finding gardens past all the hurt
Everything ends and begins again
Time once an enemy now a friend

Rogue armies march for the sea
Let my people go riles the nations
Ships of light sail for bright eternity
We are called from station too station
Rise in the night with candles lit
Many refuse to leave decadent Egypt

Hope is a home away from home
Tired wings find rest in the cross
Heavy laden in heart and soul
Rest is Gods peace amidst loss
The meek seek each others hand
Today we walk for the Promised Land

The mystical body of Christ calls
The wheel in the wheel always turns
Heed the gentle Spirit that calls
Feel a divine love that forever burns
No one rejected by his shed blood
Everyone called by his sweet love

A chosen people amidst the nations

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Chosen People

Glory is on our way[? ]
Worship the sun, great spirit.
Born of the mother earth,
Seek for the true white brother.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
It is written in our prophecy,
[it is written in our prophecy]
That we shall find the true white brother,
[we shall find the true white brother]
Who will help us, joined together, to build humanity.
There is a place for everyone.
We are the chosen people, give back our holy land.
We are the ever forest, we are great spirits hand.
She will call us soon,
She will shake her body,
Bringing your land to ruin.
Why will the world not hear us?
We are most ancient teachers, we know great spirits plan.
We learned by natures secrets, the inner side of man.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.

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There Are Not Too Many People

There are not too many,
Who can leave hurdles leaped.
That others seek,
To reach and stir someone within.

With a tone that is expressed,
From an honestness.
And that's how those protective walls,
Come to be shakened.
To break and awaken.

There are not too many...
Who can express,
An experience they possess.
Not one that affects,
A comprehension that connects.

There are not too many,
Who can say they have lived.
And this is believed.
From an understanding given and perceived.

There are not too many people,
Unafraid to 'be'.
Without their hearts,
Left to bleed on their sleeves...

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The Great Divide

If you are that kind of person,
Who does not understand...
That pieces of a jiggsaw puzzle,
Creates a completed picture...
As an end result,
Of putting those pieces together...
You are one of those people seeking,
Answers to your questions.
And no one seems to have the patience.

You are on the other side of the great divide.

If you are that kind of person,
Who needs little explanation to what is observed...
You appear to have a peace of mind.
And have adjusted through changing times.
You have been the kind most likely misunderstood.
The power of faith is in your face.
There is a comprehension sustained that is maintained.
With a quiet calmness carried within obtained.
You are one of statements and impatient in debate.

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Can We See The Future Today? [Part 1]

Many say it is fairly possible to foresee the future
Others say, probabilities can be computed
Some say, it is all a guessing game
Few say, why bother – what will be, will surely be

From time immemorial, human beings have
wondered what the future has in stock
Many have used various methods to peep into the future
Some of these methods include astrology, oneiromancy,
chiromancy, numerology, geomancy, crystal gazing,
tarot cards, clairvoyance, oracles, necromancy,
I ching, feng shui, rune casting and many more

All these methods are known by several people as
divination, fortune-telling, soothsaying and prophesy

Numerous people today are still using astrology to
predict, foresee and to forecast the future
Based on the time, place and day of birth, astrology can be
used to explore who we are, our potentials and our strengths
How accurate is astrology as a tool to foresee the future?
Some say, it depends on the astrologer

Oneiromancy is another method that has been used
to peep and foresee the future on this earth
Oneiromancy is the use of dreams to interpret the future
The future can sometimes be revealed in dreams
We all remember the dreams Jacob, Joseph, Daniel,
Paul and many more in the Bible
How precise are dreams to foresee the future?
The accuracy of dreams depends on individuals

Some have peeped into the future through chiromancy
otherwise called palmistry, which in simplistic terms – means
the reading of the lines on our right and left palms
The lines on our palms are said to contain secrets
about us from our cradle to our grave
How exact are palm-lines in revealing
our future hopes and potentials
This depends on the professionalism of the palm-reader
[ To Be Continued in Part 2]

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On The Victory Obtained By Blake Over the Spaniards, In The Bay Of Scanctacruze, In The Island Of teneriff.1657

Now does Spains Fleet her spatious wings unfold,
Leaves the new World and hastens for the old:
But though the wind was fair, the slowly swoome
Frayted with acted Guilt, and Guilt to come:
For this rich load, of which so proud they are,
Was rais'd by Tyranny, and rais'd for war;
Every capatious Gallions womb was fill'd,
With what the Womb of wealthy Kingdomes yield,
The new Worlds wounded Intails they had tore,
For wealth wherewith to wound the old once more.
Wealth which all others Avarice might cloy,
But yet in them caus'd as much fear, as Joy.
For now upon the Main, themselves they saw,
That boundless Empire, where you give the law,
Of winds and waters rage, they fearful be,
But much more fearful are your Flags to see
Day, that to these who sail upon the deep,
More wish't for, and more welcome is then sleep,
They dreaded to behold, Least the Sun's light,
With English Streamers, should salute their sight:
In thickest darkness they would choose to steer,
So that such darkness might suppress their fear;
At length theirs vanishes, and fortune smiles;
For they behold the sweet Canary Isles.
One of which doubtless is by Nature blest
Above both Worlds, since 'tis above the rest.
For least some Gloominess might stain her sky,
Trees there the duty of the Clouds supply;
O noble Trust which Heaven on this Isle poures,
Fertile to be, yet never need her showres.
A happy People, which at once do gain
The benefits without the ills of rain.
Both health and profit, Fate cannot deny;
Where still the Earth is moist, the Air still dry;
The jarring Elements no discord know,
Fewel and Rain together kindly grow;
And coolness there, with heat doth never fight,
This only rules by day, and that by Night.
Your worth to all these Isles, a just right brings,
The best of Lands should have the best of Kings.
And these want nothing Heaven can afford,
Unless it be, the having you their Lord;
But this great want, will not along one prove,
Your Conquering Sword will soon that want remove.
For Spain had better, Shee'l ere long confess,
Have broken all her Swords, then this one Peace,
Casting that League off, which she held so long,
She cast off that which only made her strong.
Forces and art, she soon will feel, are vain,
Peace, against you, was the sole strength of Spain.
By that alone those Islands she secures,
Peace made them hers, but War will make them yours;
There the indulgent Soil that rich Grape breeds,
Which of the Gods the fancied drink exceeds;
They still do yield, such is their pretious mould,
All that is good, and are not curst with Gold.
With fatal Gold, for still where that does grow,
Neither the Soyl, nor People quiet know.
Which troubles men to raise it when 'tis Oar,
And when 'tis raised, does trouble them much more.
Ah, why was thither brought that cause of War,
Kind Nature had from thence remov'd so far.
In vain doth she those Islands free from Ill,
If fortune can make guilty what she will.
But whilst I draw that Scene, where you ere long,
Shall conquests act, your present are unsung,
For Sanctacruze the glad Fleet takes her way,
And safely there casts Anchor in the Bay.
Never so many with one joyful cry,
That place saluted, where they all must dye.
Deluded men! Fate with you did but sport,
You scap't the Sea, to perish in your Port.
'Twas more for Englands fame you should dye there,
Where you had most of strength, and least of fear.
The Peek's proud height, the Spaniards all admire,
Yet in their brests, carry a pride much higher.
Onely to this vast hill a power is given,
At once both to Inhabit Earth and Heaven.
But this stupendious Prospect did not neer,
Make them admire, so much as as they did fear.
For here they met with news, which did produce,
A grief, above the cure of Grapes best juice.
They learn'd with Terrour, that nor Summers heat,
Nor Winters storms, had made your Fleet retreat.
To fight against such Foes, was vain they knew,
Which did the rage of Elements subdue.
Who on the Ocean that does horror give,
To all besides, triumphantly do live.
With hast they therefore all their Gallions moar,
And flank with Cannon from the Neighbouring shore.
Forts, Lines, and Sconces all the Bay along,
They build and act all that can make them strong.
Fond men who know not whilst such works they raise,
They only Labour to exalt your praise.
Yet they by restless toyl, because at Length,
So proud and confident of their made strength.
That they with joy their boasting General heard,
Wish then for that assault he lately fear'd.
His wish he has, for now undaunted Blake,
With winged speed, for Sanctacruze does make.
For your renown, his conquering Fleet does ride,
Ore Seas as vast as is the Spaniards pride.
Whose Fleet and Trenches view'd, he soon did say,
We to their Strength are more obilg'd then they.
Wer't not for that, they from their Fate would run,
And a third World seek out our Armes to shun.
Those Forts, which there, so high and strong appear,
Do not so much suppress, as shew their fear.
Of Speedy Victory let no man doubt,
Our worst works past, now we have found them out.
Behold their Navy does at Anchor lye,
And they are ours, for now they cannot fly.
This said, the whole Fleet gave it their applause,
And all assumes your courage, in your cause.
That Bay they enter, which unto them owes,
The noblest wreaths, that Victory bestows.
Bold Stainer Leads, this Fleets design'd by fate,
To give him Lawrel, as the Last did Plate.
The Thund'ring Cannon now begins the Fight,
And though it be at Noon, creates a Night.
The Air was soon after the fight begun,
Far more enflam'd by it, then by the Sun.
Never so burning was that Climate known,
War turn'd the temperate, to the Torrid Zone.
Fate these two Fleets, between both Worlds had brought.
Who fight, as if for both those Worlds they fought.
Thousands of wayes, Thousands of men there dye,
Some Ships are sunk, some blown up in the skie.
Nature never made Cedars so high a Spire,
As Oakes did then. Urg'd by the active fire.
Which by quick powders force, so high was sent,
That it return'd to its own Element.
Torn Limbs some leagues into the Island fly,
Whilst others lower, in the Sea do lye.
Scarce souls from bodies sever'd are so far,
By death, as bodies there were by the War.
Th'all-seeing Sun, neer gaz'd on such a sight,
Two dreadful Navies there at Anchor Fight.
And neither have, or power, or will to fly,
There one must Conquer, or there both must dye.
Far different Motives yet, engag'd them thus,
Necessity did them, but Choice did us.
A choice which did the highest forth express,
And was attended by as high success.
For your resistless genious there did Raign,
By which we Laurels reapt ev'n on the Mayn.
So prosperous Stars, though absent to the sence,
Bless those they shine for, by their Influence.
Our Cannon now tears every Ship and Sconce,
And o're two Elements Triumphs at once.
Their Gallions sunk, their wealth the Sea does fill,
The only place where it can cause no ill,
Ah would those Treasures which both Indies have,
Were buryed in as large, and deep a grave,
Wars chief support with them would buried be,
And the Land owe her peace unto the Sea.
Ages to come, your conquering Arms will bless,
There they destroy, what had destroy'd their Peace.
And in one War the present age may boast,
The certain seeds of many Wars are lost,
All the Foes Ships destroy'd, by Sea or fire,
Victorious Blake, does from the Bay retire,
His Seige of Spain he then again pursues,
And there first brings of his success the news;
The saddest news that ere to Spain was brought,
Their rich Fleet sunk, and ours with Lawrel fraught.
Whilst fame in every place, her Trumpet blowes,
And tells the World, how much to you it owes.

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Buddha Thoughts (No More)

we are an archaic,
infantile people who
would crucify Jesus again,

and take Buddha's outer kingdom
over his inner one!
we limit our concepts

od God and infinity
to our own understanding,
when that which created

the cosmos lives within
each of us, within
the tiniest insect,

the branch soon to bud!
enlightenment, the pile of dung
you just stepped in,

knowing that you stepped in it!
there need be no more!

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'She was apparently healthy.
But how did she die? '

As those question themselves...
While viewing the body of a woman,
Who had been mummified and die...
Over three thousand years ago.

And it would seem to me,
That this woman had died from the death.
Perhaps she was healthy when she lived...
But those questions to me seem so inept.

Like the adsurdities expressed,
By those wishing to leave realities unaddressed.
Even though they are obvious to see...
People wish to heighten their fantasies.
And 'deludify' them,
With pretense and sweetened ignorance.

Note: Deludify? One who deludes an obvious truth,
as it is accepted by conformed 'normality'.
Normality? That which one had before truth deludified it
by the use of deceit! Deceit? Lies told to persuade one's belief.

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Early in the morning
they sit rather proper in the benches
and sing out joyously
and read the Word
and rolls of notes
are in the offering plate.

Sometimes I see them look
at people in the street,
as if they are a little beneath them
and circle around
a blind beggar.

Dressed in church suits
and designer dresses
I see them in the cafe,
the chain store,
and even at the movies.

They are buying bread and milk,
sometimes a bottle of wine
and husband and wife
and at times
all of their children with them
are peacefully
going through the shops
or wait for tickets
in a row.

Every thing happens
as if they do not have
another time
for all of these things

and in the restaurant
jokes are told
that even people
at other tables can hear

and I wonder where and why
man has lost
his respect for God
and of His day.

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Not New Find

I often regret my being so
I decided to let bad habit go
Not to look at others faults
And not to try any tricks and offer jolts

It is not possible if you are having no means
People may try to influence you and win
They will make you to fall in their lines
Make akin to their liking and designs

I won’t buy arguments in favor
If you speak truth the relation will sour
You may pay penalty for being true
But truly speaking you got to be little untrue too

Each day may not be favorable
You may find it full of troubles
Some way has to be worked out
If not you may face worst route

You can read those fake lines
You need not choose any particular lines
The opponent knows what your aim is
It will be then his counter move to fix

Such is game in real life
It is rally an sharp age of cutting knife
You can’t take anybody for granted
You got to maintain friendship even if unwanted

No one may miss single chance
They will be in hurry to avail it at once
But one thing is set in everybody’s mind
The treachery, deception and other things are not new find

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An Ode, Written October, 1819, Before The Spaniards Had Recovered Their Liberty

Arise, arise, arise!
There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread;
Be your wounds like eyes
To weep for the dead, the dead, the dead.
What other grief were it just to pay?
Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they;
Who said they were slain on the battle day?

Awaken, awaken, awaken!
The slave and the tyrant are twin-born foes;
Be the cold chains shaken
To the dust where your kindred repose, repose:
Their bones in the grave will start and move,
When they hear the voices of those they love,
Most loud in the holy combat above.

Wave, wave high the banner!
When Freedom is riding to conquest by:
Though the slaves that fan her
Be Famine and Toil, giving sigh for sigh.
And ye who attend her imperial car,
Lift not your hands in the banded war,
But in her defence whose children ye are.

Glory, glory, glory,
To those who have greatly suffered and done!
Never name in story
Was greater than that which ye shall have won.
Conquerors have conquered their foes alone,
Whose revenge, pride, and power they have overthrown
Ride ye, more victorious, over your own.

Bind, bind every brow
With crownals of violet, ivy, and pine:
Hide the blood-stains now
With hues which sweet Nature has made divine:
Green strength, azure hope, and eternity:
But let not the pansy among them be;
Ye were injured, and that means memory.

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Living Stones

As we taste and see God is good, we become in Christ a brotherhood,
One body of believers in The Word, through the Truth that we’ve heard,
We then become New Living Stones, in Christ, whose sacrifice atones,
Making atonement for all our sin, as God laid all our iniquity upon Him.

Upon The Rock God builds each stone, upon The Savior, Christ alone,
We’re being built into a dwelling for, The Spirit sent by Christ our Lord.
The Precious Stone is Jesus Christ, who gives all believers a New Life,
While Christ alone, is our foundation, the Cornerstone of our Salvation.

God called us out of our darkness, and fills us with His Righteousness.
Called out from the darkest of night, to be filled with His Glorious Light.
We come to Christ dead in our sin, but, made alive with a Hope in Him.
A Rock and Fortress is our God, a refuge to flee to on this earthly sod.

A chosen people, a Brotherhood; a Holy Nation and Royal Priesthood.
God’s Glory dwells within all of us, when in the Rock we place our trust.
A special people by God’s election, then given by God a new direction,
To point other sinners to eternity, to God’s praise, honor and His Glory.

As Living Stones, we proclaim, God’s Salvation, in the Rock of shame,
Shame for all nations who do reject, the One who saves all God’s elect.
And now a Precious Rock for those, who believed in the One who rose,
It is that Rock of Ages that we praise, as Stones living out earthly days.

(Copyright ©08/2008)

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A Generic God

“Oh my God”, an often heard phrase, empty words uttered these days,
This not the God The Bible speaks of, The One, Who reigns up above,
As He said, “Don’t speak my Name”, hastily spoken, just taken in vain,
He is The Lord, many do not fear, speaking vainly, all over this sphere.

Most people who travel this sod, believe in something, they call a god,
This god isn’t The God of the Bible, One to whom we all shall be liable,
A generic god, many men herald, not God above, but one of the world,
Gods that have been created by men; gods, who Christ shall condemn.

The generic god’s held up by many, varying views, by which are plenty,
Embraced by people of all kinds, deep thinkers and even small minds,
So whatever men want to believe, this is the god, that they can receive,
And no changes are required of them, as their god will never condemn.

They may or not believe in Heaven, a belief tainted with spiritual leaven,
Changing instead, God’s Eternal Truth, so they are heading for reproof,
Also, as far as most men can tell, many of those do not believe in Hell,
As one’s death is final in their eyes, seeing no life at all, after man dies.

Now there’s men who once believed, but by Satan have been deceived,
Teaching all men shall find a place, in Heaven, apart from God’s Grace,
This is all part of man’s falling away, to a generic god we hear of today,
Falling from God’s Solid Ground, to another god, that will not be found.

(Copyright ©09/2011)

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Loath and Fear

If I would rely on phrenology,
Or science, or mythology,
I'd burn down this damned city
And disembark in a conclusion
Of the ugly veracity:
I loathe everything!
I fear everything!
I loathe that I am writing about loathing
And I fear that I might lose every one
Though I barely have anyone,
So I loathe even more on this fear.
I loathe that I write about myself all the time, and
I fear that I might not be writing at all
I loathe that I would narrate a story
In the surreal slopes of enigma, and
I fear, afterwards, that no one will pry
To understand or even console.
I loathe that my mouth cannot mouth
What my hands opted to write, and
I fear that my hands aren't equipped
To write what I cannot mouth.
I loathe even more that I build walls
For people to beat down and divulge
The forlorn boy inside, and yet
I fear to be found.
And I loathe to the point of breaking
That no one ever cared to pry
And that makes me shudder in fear, and
I fear this kind of loathing
And loathe this kind of fear.
I loathe that I cannot gain readers, and
I fear that I may never have
I loathe that readers appreciates the writing
But not the congealed brook
Between the lines of it, and
I fear that they might not even
Appreciate the spilled blood
In every line of it.
I loathe, I fear,
That apart from writing
I am never good at anything
Except maybe from fearing and loathing.
I loathe that I blame the past
For making me loathe a lot, and
For making me fear a lot
For making me loathe sports, and
For making me fear trying
And all the brusquely recreations
And the shame of failing.
I loathe, I fear,
That I was turned
To be a loathing misanthrope
From a fearing diffident
Or perhaps not,
Perhaps, I am both.
I loathe, I fear,
The mad man that I am
Smoking the emaciation out
For I loathe and fear the society
And their chauvinistic beliefs.
I fear that I am ninety pounds flat,
I loathe that I am not doing anything,
And I loathe and fear my loathing and fearing
Because I fear that all I have left
Is my loathing to strengthen myself.
I loathe my poor drinking limit
And I loathe the carousals
As much as I fear encompassing the line
And fearing the toll of carousals
For I never get inebriated
In loathe and fear.
I loathe the carousing table
For they are full of shallow people
Except for one person, perhaps
And I loathe and I fear,
That I may not be him.
I loathe that I am poor
Because I am jobless
And so are my parents.
I loathe, I fear,
That when I finish college
And finally get a job
That I cannot think for myself
Because my shoulders are donned
With so much unsolicited weights;
I loathe that I loathe it
Because it makes me a loathing glutton
Self-centered and loathsome, and
I fear all this loathing
For the very same reasons.
I loathe that I do not have friends
And that I cannot have friends
And that I loathe my friends, and
I fear that I can loathe my friends
Or not having thereof
For I fear to realize
That I do not even know what I want
Or that no one knows what I want.
I loathe that I do not have the facilities
And sometimes the interest
And there is nothing much fearful
Than loathing your fears
And fearing your loathing
From your fears.
I fear the approaching season
For I am bound to loathe even more
That the people are carousing
For not a single reason
Whilst I loathe, whilst I fear
Not having anything.
And despite me inscribing these
I loathe that I am doing these, and
I fear that I am not doing these right.
I loathe and fear that I am hopeful
Again and again after another failure
And I loathe, and I fear,
That even with a fractured cranium
I would still go for another try
And I loathe even more
And I fear even more
That I loathe, and that I fear,
But never give up
On loath and fear.

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My books are about losers, about people who've lost their way and are engaged in a search.

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Mignon McLaughlin

There are a handful of people whom money won't spoil, and we all count ourselves among them.

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There are a lot of people with a lot of money, and I'm amazed they don't understand what a great pleasure it can be to give.

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People Like This Are The Ones Convinced

One may find they are...

One may discover...
They haven't a care.

And even if they do or if they don't,
See their neighbors.
And even if they do or if they don't,
Belabor over it.
Something deep inside that's in a mind,
Wont stop...
Believing they've been followed.

One may find they are...

One may discover,
They haven't a care.

Then a paranoia kept sometimes in minds...
Kept there.
Will make some people feel they are confined,
And people like this are the ones convinced,
They're the ones are being followed.

And even if they do or if they don't,
See their neighbors.
And even if they do or if they don't,
Belabor over it.
Something deep inside that's in a mind,
Wont stop...
Believing they've been followed.

People seem to be so paranoid,
People paranoid seem they're annoyed,
And they stare.
Something deep inside that's in a mind,
Wont stop...
Believing they've been followed.

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