The Love of Teresa de Meun

Leah Goldberg

1952

I do not want to see you in my dreams
each night. I do not want to tremble when I hear
a footstep at my door. I do not want
to think of you each hour of every day.
I do not want to see
in the watchful look of girls of seventeen
stinging derision, sly triumphant smiles.
Love of this kind is not the love I want.
In what a careless calm I lived
b…
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