MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I ’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be The aptitude to fly, Meadows of majesty concedes And easy sweeps of sky. So I must baffle at the hint And cipher at the sign, And make much blunder, if at last I take the clew divine.
2 Comments:
hmmmm va ril bik raih raih ve
Va'n blog khat ve ooo
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