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Love
nobody man
The
Indian famine finally fails,
The
threat of war gradually pales.
The
love of people slowly goes
From
my heart and I know:
The
only love is that which
flows
In
the blood of animals,
In
the leaves of trees,
From
the water of rivers,
To
the desert sand,
Which
blows with
the wind,
And
warms to
the sun
As
humans
never
can, till
the rest
has gone.
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