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famous poem

it was a tall young oysterman
of sun nor stars
though love repine, and reason chafe
beneath my window in a city street
when night drifts along the streets of the city
you are my companion
my mother taught me that every night
i despise my friends more than you
the arches of the red bridge
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst

 



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