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father poem

we break the glass whose sacred wine
musing, between the sunset and the dark
sweet with fern and rose
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
have you not heard
moonlight deep and tender
have we no shame?
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
our pleasant moments fly
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
let us pity those who are better off than we are

 



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