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Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture?

 Whence cometh such tender rapture?
Those curls--they are not the first ones
I've smoothened, and I've already
Known lips--that were darker than yours.
The stars have risen and faded, --Whence cometh such tender rapture?-- And eyes have risen and faded In face of these eyes of mine I'd never yet hearkened unto Such songs in the depths of darkness, --Whence cometh such tender rapture?-- My head on the bard's own breast Whence cometh such tender rapture? And what's to be done with it, artful Young vagabound, passing minstrel With lashes--to long to say.

by Marina Tsvetaeva
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