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Krallice

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Krallice

The Mountain

The soul tries out a thousand cures, in vain;
Since I was taken from my early road,
Vainly it worries how it can return.

The sea and the mountains, and the fire and the sword,
All these together, I live in their midst.
The mountain, he'll not leave me, who has seized
My intellect, and taken away my reason.