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I'm sure one day,Someone will call from the plain,O someone who is wrapped in the poem!Stand up!And in that day,Of all the rows and columns of the book,Worried and hasty,You'll go to watch full-length the whole!And the most tragic events,Will come to meet youTo watch you in turn,One by one behind your black eyes,Throughout my every letter,I'm thinking of your feature,I'm thinking of your world,I am in the midst of a sonnet slept in the soil that is very tight, damp and cold,And you are the king of your sad heart in your state of unfaithfulness!I hope your days are prosperous,Your land is bright,And your honest state, O friend, is much without me.Auspicious.