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Narcissus

The beginning of spring and the shut door
roars like a lion the Narcissus odour
wet wind dances with the young green
further I want is you and nothing more

Has a command on the flowering season
and to touch it is like an offence
though nature has not given it a tongue
but openly talks of its presence

Beauty and power put pride in veins
everyone is timely with joy and startle
let me smell the blooming Narcissus
the thing more beautiful is more mortal.

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