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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Fantasy >> ID #1357604 |
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The eye which I look at ordinary things; sees more spectacular in the surface of a leaf or the structure of an icey flower. To marvel at a marvel one must be alive. How many particles of snow suround me? I see them with the naked eye. The lover sees one woman crowned with the light of heaven. In her he finds the vision his heart as sought. It is not an illusion. Her eyes are the window to Paridise. The lady is as glorious as he sees her to be. The bystander would think him mad. It would be an intorable burden to unveil the splendor of his desire. Beauty thus is true in the eye of the beholder. Love is plain to see. ***
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