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birthday poetry

high-born race
this is the ship of pearl
a mile behind
tell me less or tell me more
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
so lost
a look is but a ray
in halls of sleep you wandered by
the air is full of dawn and spring
and breaketh bread no more
come down at dawn from windless hills
beside a stricken field
love me at last, or if you will not

 



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