I carry the Sun in a Golden Cup, the Moon in a Silver Bag.




(No Ratings Yet)Labour is blossoming or dancing whereThe body is not bruised to pleasure soul.




(No Ratings Yet)How far away the stars seem, and how farIs our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!




(No Ratings Yet)I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me.




(No Ratings Yet)Surely some revelation is at hand.




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