Morning and evening, for you and about you, For you and about you, as ever, I sing. Tempest and stillness, joy and lamenting, Hurting and balsam, comfort and sting. At times, when I miss your reply for a moment, At times, when it seems the attachment is gone, A moment — and once more I'm singing about you, Singing about you, passion and scorn. For you and about you, for you and about you — My song is a thousand violins' rite. Tempest and stillness, laughter and tears, Hurting and balsam, darkness and light.
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