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romantic love poems

the air is like a butterfly
as evening falls
a little peach in the orchard grew
i love my life, but not too well
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
she must go back, she said
wheel me down by the meadow
a mist was driving down
he came and took me by the hand
at dawn, he said
i shake my hair in the wind of morning

 



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