tHE bURNT lEAVES
But here under this winter sky, in the pleasant day,
I walk with your hand in mine,
You whisper into my ears,
Then leave my hand.
You join the warmth of the fire
To take the aroma of the burning leaves
Deep in you!
Here you look at the yellow leaves,
Leaves that are ready to be burnt!
I see you sprouting beyond the season
With the pain of the dying leaves!
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