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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-12-25 | [Этот текст следует читать на // Русском english] | Submited by Turtureanu Emilian The whole world is wondering Could any more room be made In your stunning garland’s ring For the tiniest grass blade ? But I know it could no more. Art, life’s fairy, would display - Just as in fairy-tales lore - Only flowers in your way. For that reason let me bring As an offering my rhymes My song on a mellow string Much weaker than yours, at times ; But it will be played out loud By those souls from near you Of the fascinated crowd Who’d have come to hear you ! Bucharest, March 1885
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