
I can love,
with passion and blue.
And weep,
with eyes
to take in beauty.
As spring passes
in deep slumber,
I turn again to find love.
Yet no sign of it
in the cicada’s cry.
I can love,
with passion and blue.
And weep,
with eyes
to take in beauty.
As spring passes
in deep slumber,
I turn again to find love.
Yet no sign of it
in the cicada’s cry.
This is very beautiful
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