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Jan 12, 2020 15:21

Oh that angel-like face so many tears
Has already brought to my poor eyes
Her beauty as a dove never ceases to fly
Through the sky I'd certainly fall down:

For me only it waits the hell doors of
Imagination and Past Memories, fool
If I follow new Orpheu, underground the cave Inside the earth, a silly quest for gold;

Love is how men usually call
the eternal glory of an illusory bliss!
She, careless and free, shall continue
her fabulous trip through the world of Beauty.

While I shall remain on my own territories
feigning Indifference and Disdain
despite, inside of me, there is a heart
where her name nevertheless will reign