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Nausicaa 348
Intoxicating thing is a love of fault
Its own father breathes these rusty fumes
As if there was a lamp for virgins
Him who never loved himself
Has no mercy on any other.
Standing out in the forgetting rain
Which ruined so many hearts
Which cast no shadow over childhoods
Which never saw the end coming
Which preyed on pilgrims in fancy carriages on their way to salvation
Their companions sleeping through the violence.
Its kindness serves as a warning;
The hopeless old may still have their day.
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