Far far from here I'm longing for a place,
Coveting to get it by god's grace,
Having the new aura being muffled,
The beauty residing will make me baffled!
...
They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of songs should do;
They say that I never could touch the strings
With a touch that is firm and true;
They say I know nothing of women and men
In the fields where Love's roses grow,
And they say I must write with a halting pen
Do you think that I do not know?
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