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“Her sprig of myrtle clothed her beautiful rose That her hands were happily playing with, And her hair fell As darkness on her back and shoulders. Someone Right in the middle of the myrtle.” — Archilochos
Her sprig of myrtle clothed her beautiful rose
That her hands were happily playing with,
And her hair fell
As darkness on her back and shoulders.
Someone
Right in the middle of the myrtle.