There's this poem I can't remember the name of...it's about a man who is looking at a painting, sweeping leaves and about his lover. I think it was 3 stanzas and in each stanza his opinion became more optimistic until he would go outside sweeping the leaves as golden coins. It goes something like "I hold the woman I love because she loves me" and at the end he looks at the painting and says, "Beautiful, beautiful."
What's the name of the following poem? I can't remember?
- Thread starter Nathalie
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