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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-22 | | Submited by Constantin Enianu That Iām doomed to die I believed it never; Always young and clad in my mantle wandered, Dreaming eyes uplifted for ever fixed on Solitudeās starlight. When so sudden, there on my pathway rising, Sorrow, O so painfully sweet, thou comest ! Then with deep delight to the dregs I drank thy Merciless death cup. And like Nessus burning alive and tortured, Poisoned as was Hercules with his garment This great fire thatās blazing in me I cannot Quench with an ocean. My own dream consuming me, sore lamenting, On my pyre I die thus to ashes burningā¦ Can I from it living arise as bringht as Phoenix the immortal ? Troubling eyes, go out of my way for ever ! Back to me indifference dreary come now ! That I my in quietness die, O give me Back my old selfhood ! Translated by Petre Grimm
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