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And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently into me, |
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on silent wings the night comes from there, as my heart longs to thee... |
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For in my hand I still hold the rose that froze long times ago, |
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its leafs have withered, it ceased to grow - left in me this woe. |
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The wine of love, is o so sweet, but bitter is regret, |
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I knew at sunset I would meet the ascending veils of dread. |
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Before my eyes nocturnal curtains fall, |
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The dark and gentle haze of the night, greedily devours all. |
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"Woe to him whose heart is filled with bitter rue and who drowns in grief" |
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In the silence of the night I loose myself, |
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it makes me drunken with its sweet blue sound. |
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In the drunk'ness of solitude I fear no more the solemn realms of death |
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No single sigh from my lips as I drink the wine of bitterness |
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My heart is aching nevermore for I know that all may end |
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Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one.... |
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Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one, |
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The ensemble of silence plays so beautiful for me... . |