| | 24 | |
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| | 25 | Death touched you as it fled, so soon -oh, dawn |
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| | 26 | shot up so soon, so soon, and you were hurtled |
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| | 27 | in this pit of earth. |
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| | 28 | |
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| | 29 | I shan't forgive death's last caress; I shan't |
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| | 30 | forgive life's heedlessness- no, not the earth |
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| | 31 | nor nothingness itself. |
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| | 32 | |
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| | 33 | My hands scoop up a storm of lightning, boulders, |
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| | 34 | strident axes thirsting, hungering |
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| | 35 | for catastrophes. |
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| | 36 | |
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| | 37 | I want to dig the earth up with my teeth. |
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| | 38 | I want to scrape the dirt off bit by bit |
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| | 39 | with sharp and burning teeth. |
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| | 40 | |
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| | 41 | I'll hollow out this pit until I find you, |
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| | 42 | kiss your noble head, ungag your mouth, |
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| | 43 | and bring you back to life. |
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| | 44 | |
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| | 45 | Back to my orchard and the fig tree where |
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| | 46 | your soul will brush its wings high up among |
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| | 47 | the blossoms, gathering |
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| | 48 | |
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| | 49 | the wax and honey of angelic hives; |
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| | 50 | back to the murmuring at windows where |
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| | 51 | the country lovers meet. |
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| | 52 | |
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| | 53 | You'll bask beneath my sheltered glance and hear |
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| | 54 | your sweetheart and the bees exhaust the theme |
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| | 55 | of your nobility. |
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| | 56 | |
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| | 57 | Greedily my love cries out to you. |
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| | 58 | It calls your crumpled velvet heart: come to |
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| | 59 | these drifting almond sprays; |
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| | 60 | |
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| | 61 | come to the rosy petaled souls among |
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| | 62 | these curdling almond trees. I need you here. |
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| | 63 | We've still so many things to talk about, |
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| | 64 | my friend, my dearest friend. |
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