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Vernal Equinox The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies between me and my book;And the South Wind, washing through the room,Makes the candles quiver.My nerves sting at a spatter of rain on the shutter,And I am uneasy with the thrusting of green shoots Outside, in the night.Why are you not here to overpower me with your tense and urgent love?