Harvest

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Let us go into the fields, my love, for the

Season of harvest approach to blossom

 Your blue eyes glitters, cheeks turn red,

Your grains start ripening from your body,

Let us share the fruits of season of love,

As the spirit nourishes the drops of joy

From green valleys of this love and life,

Let us go and gather the roots of pleasure

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BY

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI