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But the diamond of your narcissus
Is lustrous and immortal.
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Under timid beams of bashful wintry sun,
I raise my hands up to the heavenly skies.
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I thread alternatively
Some blossoms and some smile
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If I bury the blackness of solitude beneath, And water it with dews of tears,
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I raise hands of cooing and becking
Up to the Lord of Elevated Throne;
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The sun is plunging in the sea of bloody air
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Oh, Love, what is wrong with you?
How your pretty face is colored blue!
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Ah it does suck When Marmee buys me a new coat
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Amanda looks like a rose herself; For all the sweetest blooms into her face.
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Through ruthless distances of Time,
I seek for a soft soul, an Individual,
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Whenever you have to suffer moments in which
difficulties sink you more painful than ever;
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