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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2013-02-25 | | Sometimes trying in vain to live as little as possible among the reminders. They always beat and triumphant occupy the whole island of the heart. When the swords of the present moments pierce, they hide in charming nooks, from where they send beams of light. Everything I've lived it becomes clearer, more defined, like a once climbed and loved mountain, now watched from far away, adored. O, God, after an end where can one begin again?
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