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    Surely no one knows any more that, like the streams that grow in my two eyes, the flood has often made its way. That I have been bitterly bitter, and have buried my little memories of love! No one knows now where my untouchable paradise and my heart's eternal gate Was: the prison bars are embraced by the thorny branches of martyrs' briers, and spreading richly! 

    In ancient dew and mystic mists this land is now lost, And in deserted apocalyptic pools on the surface of suicidal tears float The fortunate ones who live above Have long since moved away, and only loneliness weeps, still more and more at night. Where skeleton branches tremble and shudder, and all the sane shudder 

    that dictates all reason. But perhaps all is not yet lost, nor can so easily be forgotten The toiling hope that may hopefully create Tomorrows under the sun! - But happier, happier moments, like trout's winged run, Fall at once into the throat of depths! - Now still I see the sunshine growing paler! 

    And the fleeing memories are running away from me. Besides, no one knows now that each day was long, and bitterly hard! To wander the schoolyard's periphery with the consciousness of the condemned, And when no one saw the spat upon humility, To kneel and cry for a chance, "Enough of the series of beatings, the chain-slapping, the trampling of Morality in the mud! - No one asked: "Can you help me?" - that instead of judgemental fighting, it was the universal humanism of peace that should have been discovered!

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