He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. There was no need to be afraid for me. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-05-2024 09:01:19
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