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Forget, forget, forget how to forget me not, my tenderness, my minty breathing, my sweet nothings and bitter anything but love that almost caught my desolation by surprise. Forget! So far things are going pretty well: you ripped up all my letters, unfriended me in social networks, burned a ream of writings and at last (I wonder why it matters to me), you almost stop to see me in your dream. And rarely in the vast and incandescent sands of lonely bed two dreams, deliriously craving remembrances, еxtend their translucent hands to one another at the precipice of raving. My love, you did it well. And all that's left to do is sooner to forget this farewell sonnet too. * См. перевод в комментарии 1. |
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