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7

我的歌卸下她的饰物。她没有了衣饰的骄奢。饰物只会玷污我们的结合;它们会挡在你我之间;叮叮当当地淹没你的低语。

在你面前,我作为诗人的虚荣羞愧地消隐。哦,诗歌的主人,我盘坐于你的脚下。请让我的生命变得简单直接,如同一支苇笛,盈满你的音乐。

My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers.

My poet’s vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music. BLvDDdSJD9coa9qgb8VxoSwdkJcZckx2mpbrati7j7NshUE89R92RFOtJBDhb2JE

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