Poezie
Divine copyright
1 min lectură·
Mediu
Forgery’ s the lilac’s smell in the night,
How can it imitate perfectly your smell, my dear?
Forgery’s the soft grass, but it’s all right,
The quiver of your every single hair I hear.
Forgery’s the vein on the leaves,
The vein on your eyelids He admired,my girl,
Forgery’s the shining blue that sky breathes,
Your two eyes are the priceless original.
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