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love poem quote

the arches of the red bridge
the old west, the old time
do not turn your head
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
babylon-where i go dreaming
a little peach in the orchard grew
come down at dawn from windless hills
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
when freedom from her mountain height
give me hunger
we who stood

 



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