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romantic love poems

the dawn was apple-green
i know what you're going to say
beside a stricken field
never in all my life
over the river, on the hill
in the sphere
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
i despise my friends more than you
there is a country full of wine

 



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