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To My Cygnet

My angel, my daughter, my cygnet dear,
When will you see yourself as God and I do?
When will you see what God’s sons think of you?
How can you at this dapple-grey down shed tears?
For your beauty, your worth is why you are here.
After a mere, short while is quickly through,
others will in awe and astonishment coo
at your splendor, perfection of many tiers.

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Pablo Neruda

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

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