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October 06 translation of an old poetry: the rearward glanceThe uneven sentimental of adolescence,
as the spring leaf
with tender sawtooth;
Will you please,
let poetries take place of numbers
to reckon our anamnesis?
When sunset bestows
the rearward glance
with golden sight;
melting in my eyes
is the effusion
of your youth. Comments (6)
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