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What I love  (Triolet)

 



 

 

 

The night, it sounds trite, I love it
for all that is fair and bright
on Earth and way, way above it.
The night, it sounds trite, I love it
when starlight I reap off it
or the heat of a candle's light.
The night, let it  sound trite, I love it
for all that is fair and bright.