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It feels strange, to see his name on a grave. But there he is, engraved in gold, with a stone bust on the wall. It doesn't seem right. His music is always so full of life, that it's hard to think of him as dead. It seems sad, that this giant of a man, this kindly genius who wove planets into song, whose suites make me smile, whose melodies take me on faraway adventures of wonder, can be reduced to bones and boxes. But I am glad he is buried here, in the kingdom of creativity, where he should be.

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