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Black and white birds of paradise Floating on the thermals cool, In captious movements deftly made On ice topped shimmering pool. Joined together in flying grace, These two creatures are as one, The bull fighter, dead without his cape, And he her shining sun. Touching ever, always close, Though now in purple style, But still the birds of paradise, And still that loving smile. The wheeling flight of lovers Overcome their earthly state, And music louder, most insistent, With birds no hurry to be late. As sound and flyers reach crescendo With love in every tiny move, Now this ecstatic rythmn ended, To rest on laurels, champions prove. |