Wind from Egypt blows cold waves
Across slantwise these rocks and ribs.
He digs this ragged boy with sagging
Goats to watch—a bag of corms.
Cyclamens shiver at sky-corners
Of these brown, below-ground,
Hollow, long-robbed
Pillared tombs. Two jokes. Great
Pyramids beyond this clapping difficult
Sea, then here these hollow
Also empty bourgeois sub-
Terranean tombs. These dirty sandy rooms.
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