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alexander lernet-holenia

TO THE MOON

Delicious shimmer shining on lamb clouds, then
on the lake's ripple, or on the fallen
cemetery wall, how on a shepherdess'
satin dress silver
flowers stir, here and there!

Where in the rushing wheat you cohabited
now falls dew in an Indian summer night,
and the treacherous gleam
covers your bright stars...

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