It is spring, leaving, night, coffee ... and roses, witnesses, longing, and firmness. It is the desired hell .. the wine of souls and the hearts of hearts are green like grass .. red like roses .. yellow as wheat bench. It is the love of the poets of poets .. the princes of the princes .. the greatness of the great .. the spray of graying on the heads of the wise .. the poor and the rich and their seat is neighboring on the berth of humiliation .. both. It is love .. and what do you know what love?
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