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They offer you many things,
    I a few.
Moonlight on the play of fountains at night
With water sparkling a drowsy monotone,
Bare-shouldered, smiling women and talk
And a cross-play of loves and adulteries
And a fear of death
    and a remembering of regrets:
All this they offer you.
I come with:
    salt and bread
    a terrible job of work
    and tireless war;
Come and have now:
    and hate.