Two Ways Of Love
The wind half blows her robes,
That subside
Listlessly
As swaying pines.
The wind tosses hers
In circles
That recoil upon themselves:
How should I love--as the swaying or tossing wind?
That subside
Listlessly
As swaying pines.
The wind tosses hers
In circles
That recoil upon themselves:
How should I love--as the swaying or tossing wind?
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