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let us pity those who are better off than we are
some one complained to the master
the meadow was creeping
the air is like a butterfly
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
see the tentative
he speaks not well
it tells of good old times
if i should die, think only this of me
and my name is truthful
you are my companion
i see all human wits
with the sunset
stand here by my side

 



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