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A Prayer

O You who filled my glass with wine galore From Nature’s own winestore, See to it that my glass is melted by This fire sent from Your sky.

O let my spirited lament provide Love with its wealth of pride Would that the dust of my Sinai became An all consuming flame.

When I die, let my ashes form a bed Where tulips will be bred, So that my Passion’s wounds, revived, may In tulips’ hearts again. shine