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Oh , what humiliation this ,
to search for true love,
knowing true love will not be ;
Oh , what waste of time,
to seek someone,
amidst a crowd of strangers,
till memory looses all identity ;
Fie upon the ways of wanton youth !
Fie upon the scheme that leads him to
the narrow lanes where dark abounds,
the stink of rotten mind rises ;
The groping beasts,
they find delight in dull events,
Like beads on a monotonous thread
of Life ,
And revel in such trivial talk,
Oh,
Life to them being
but a master joke !
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25 Mar 1959
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