lxxxix.
my soul, oh the
poor thing, it
runs to the
heavens every
night and returns
to me smiling
every morning.
how much it does
to help me survive;
must i then not live
to the fullest?
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my soul, oh the
poor thing, it
runs to the
heavens every
night and returns
to me smiling
every morning.
how much it does
to help me survive;
must i then not live
to the fullest?
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro