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romantic poem

one by one, like leaves from a tree
dark-eyed
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
i wonder where you live
i make my shroud, but no one knows
music i heard with you was more than music
brief on a flying night
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
there is a country full of wine
do not turn your head
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
their beautiful hair
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night

 



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