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Unquenchable thirst of love…
sonnet book
(Part one)
The name of rose
Sonnet 155

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The frantic flame was burning down

And fire tumbled as if in rage.

And not so less was all its power:

Each moment made it fade away.


As if a hungry wolf, it used to tear

All that it could get into its jaw,

And all was turning into smoke

With which the soul was seared…


Thus, everything burned down to ashes:

And there was left only some embers —

A gulp of water in the thimble:

Though ashes still so slightly glimmered…


I poked it – and it suddenly appeared:

The passion's burnt, but love is here


Unquenchable thirst of love…

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