Please don't go, oh please don't go;
I have still more words to say.
If right now You were to leave,
Alive with what do I remain?
How much has a zephyr whispered into ear;
What is the web that the skyline weaves?
Though unmindful was effusive heart to prestige,
Do You know that specific tale?
At scent of night-jasmine on autumn eve,
Psyche has been overwhelmed by happiness sweet.
The mind is replete, ambrosia is gushing;
That, pray tell, with what do I veil?
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If You left, is there somebody else with whom I talk freely?
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