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I
When the green turf will hide my dust,
When, STRAIGHT with a short-lived existence,
I will only sound in your mouth,
Only a shadow in your mind;
When friends mladye at feasts
I will not remember the wine,
Then take a simple harp you,
She was my friend and a friend of dreams.

II
Hang it in the house against the window,
That autumn wind played over it
And so she said to him
Though the songs echo of past days;
But not wake sonorous strings
Under the snow-white hand your,
Then that he, who sang thy love,
Too will sleep, so as not to wake up again.

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