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In the most affirming places of their love Suddenly they grew tired, out of breath Little by little they felt the death Of some places left in darkness
A poem is a living organism.
They were eyes, that while gazing on the world Rendered it brilliant with meaning They were eyes, that embraced me with glances They were eyes, for which I now hopelessly long
Is the truth of tablecloths to be spread? How awful always to take refuge in known words A person should let himself go.