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Nichita Stănescu
Of love She remains bored and very beautiful her black hair is angry, her bright hand for ages now has forgotten me,- for ages too has forgotten itself, hanging as it has from the neck of a chair. In the lights I drown myself, set my jaws against the coursing of the year. I reveal my teeth to her but she understands this is no smile- sweet, illuminated creature she reveals myself to me while she remains bored and very beautiful and for her alone I live in the appalling world of this inferior heaven. Poetry page |
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