Who are you below
Who spoke to Orión not long ago,
who love upon each other by my face in bliss:
who are you to love like this?
Who are you who look up at my height and smile,
Smell the corn and all the while,
As you lay upon the dew and kiss,
fail to notice I can never love like this?
Who's the man who creeps
Across the field o'er which my light sweeps
To carve his lover's name
Into a tree that saw their tryst?
I saw too, but I can never love like this.
Who you are, I truly know quite well,
I hear your pleas: from her favor you've fell.
I've seen you match your heart to hers and never miss.
Learn from me--win her back
So you can always love like this.
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