The well of memory cries out for water

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The well of memory cries out for water:
Where are the days I longed to hold her!

My lost love with long black curly hair:
Why are her lips pale and without care?

We wait and wait but she never arrives;
How can desire her sweet body contrive?

We never met the girl of ancient dreams,
But are blessed by desperate lies and themes.

Her curls are lies that wind around my throat,
That choke my longing into gasping notes!

The girl with full red lips- does she exist;
Why does she all my advances resist?

Darvish can’t remember a single kiss:
His empty arms are full of her cruel bliss!










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