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I like, that you are sick is not me,
I like, I'm not sick you,
What ever the heavy globe to
Do not drift away under our feet.
I like, that you can be funny -
Licentious - and not play with words,
And not blush suffocating wave,
Lightly touched sleeves.

I like it, you with me
Calmly hug another,
I would not mind in hell fire
Burn for, I did not kiss you.
What is the name of my tender, my tender, not
You mention the day or night - in vain ...
That never in the church silence
Not propoyut over us: Hallelujah!

Thank you heart and hand
for this, you me - not knowing themselves! —
So love: for my peaceful nights,
For the rarity of seeing sunsets,
For our non-walking underneath the moon,
For the sun is not above our heads,
for this, you are sick - alas!! - not me,
for this, I am sick - alas!! - not you.

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