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There is a matter that almost comes to my lips,
This is evident in my eyes.
Sometimes from you, sometimes from me,
They ask for words,
To take their shape and come to my lips
And to be embraced by my voice.
But this matter
Is a feeling…only a feeling,
Floating in air like fragrance,
Fragrance becomes its voice,
That you know of,
That I know of,
It’s not hidden from the world,
Don’t know what kind of secret is this…

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