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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-05-21 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
You have grown into my heart
terribly tearing apart my inconsistency, my right to be forever free of your cruel art. You have bit me with fangs that threw me in the pangs of torment too fierce, of feelings that pierce the on-growing fears as a corpse that hangs. You have spit me away - oh, what gruesome dismay to be held in your arms, to give in to your charms, yet to suffer the harms of such cold-blooded fay! You have taken me high and from there I espied my tumbling down to the abysmal ground where my cries have no sound, where my truth is but lie... You have spent my own life in desire and strife. I will not give up, though, on the one that I know is my angel of snow, my soul's only wife.
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