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Sunday, November 20, 2005 

Melancholy

What warmth flows
From springtime's scents
Passes through womaan
And man alike
Passes over me alone
So what I can't draw from
Warm embrace
I'll take from the hearts
Of pure white blossoms
That don't recoil from my touch
Until the peace stolen
By the cool, cruel April wind
Returns to me once more.