When did the prophets become
Profits when did art
Not dominate the markets
We can't make the peaches glow
But we can paint them for a show
Can this really be my life
And keep them living in a bowl
Of celadon if you prefer
And keep them hanging on a wall
Islands of accomplished
Transformations of the light
Each priceless peach
And look a few coins tossed there
On the table an unfinished
Glass of wine come sit
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