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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-12-20 | [Text in der Originalsprache: romana] | Veröffentlicht von Ionescu Bogdan
I.
Room after room, I hunt the house through We inhabit together. Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her--- Next time, herself!---not the trouble behind her Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume! As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew: Yon looking-glass gleaned at the wave of her feather. II. Yet the day wears, And door succeeds door; I try the fresh fortune--- Range the wide house from the wing to the centre. Still the same chance! She goes out as I enter. Spend my whole day in the quest,---who cares? But 'tis twilight, you see,---with such suites to explore, Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!
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