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sad poetry

green afternoon serene and bright
let us plant
my true love from her pillow rose
beneath my window in a city street
the air is like a butterfly
in may
now that i have cooled to you
glass-blower of time
good woman
your body's motion is like music
a pen of steel
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
melancholy, blue it was
those black eyes i once so praised

 



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