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She let her gold hair scatter in the breeze

‘Erano i capei d'oro a l'aura sparsi'

She let her gold hair scatter in the breeze
that twined it in a thousand sweet knots,
and wavering light, beyond measure, would burn
in those beautiful eyes, which are now so dim:
and it seemed to me her face wore the colour
of pity, I do not know whether false or true:
I who had the lure of love in my breast,
what wonder if I suddenly caught fire?

Her way of moving was no mortal thing,
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