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■ The oak
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When you weep , woman , all the water of the world
It`s found out in your eyes as two lakes Wich mirrored the evening star in the hammock Standin` to drop in the sadness of clay When you leave to drop the bitter tears Without asking a thing or even speaking It`s like you would be preparing of resurrection Melting in your cry the saltwork Therefore nobody has the right To judge - in a way or another - your cry Which in you griped the gentleness of the world To keep it in the heat of your chest
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