All those flowers that bloom everyday
In my heart for thou how I keep
In a box with a sprinkle of preservative
So that when seasons will go away
There they will be still smiling happy
There how I keep the aroma of everlasting spring
So that even when spring will be no longer there
When arid summer will make the water , vapour
And dryness will return with all its rage
There they will be preserved for even that age,
And do you know what that box I call
By which name there I keep memories all?
A box simple made of paper
with designs ornate, filled with flowers,
How I keep all my love there
Only for thou if thou be Calliope
for whom do I oft dare
To write more till the day
Whence will I no longer be here.
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