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mother daughter poem

those black eyes i once so praised
now that i have cooled to you
have you not heard
as a naked man i go
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
the old songs
when night drifts along the streets of the city
beneath my window in a city street
sad are they who know not love
i love to steal awhile away
where shall i find you
see i give myself to you

 



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