Look, look, O Lady of the East
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Oh, sincere crying
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Everything I have is here
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You are in this old purse
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A sack that does not leave my body even in my sleep
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My name and destiny have always followed me
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Lady, lady, my eastern lady
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O richer than anemones
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Yours, you are the purse of this lover's heart
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Purse the heart of this lover
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My bag is old, if it is colorless and torn
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For you, if it is not even worth winning
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It was and was not for me, that's all I have
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The pouch that is the heart of this most loving man in the field
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Look, O Lady of the East
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Oh, sincere crying
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Everything I have is here
|
You are in this old purse
|
A sack that does not leave my body even in my sleep
|
My name and destiny have always followed me
|
My Eastern Lady
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O richer than anemones
|
Yours, your desire, the pouch of this lover's heart
|
Purse the heart of this lover
|
In this old sack
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I have a love poem
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For you and my name
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I have a song book
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I have a basket of flowers, but a flower of shame and a flower of desire
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A body of watery emotion, a body thirsty for caress
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My Eastern Lady
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O richer than anemones
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Yours, your desire, the pouch of this lover's heart
|
Purse the heart of this lover
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This is not a strange smell
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The familiar smell of love
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It is not the heartbeat of the earth
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This sound is the sound of love
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Your name is hot, shame in the cold atmosphere of Khorjin
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Wanting you is a star behind this heavy cloud
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My bag is old, if it is colorless and torn
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For you, if it is not even worth winning
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It was and was not for me, that's all I have
|
The pouch that is the heart of this most loving man in the field
|
My Eastern Lady
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Lady, lady, my eastern lady
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(O richer than anemone)
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O richer than anemones
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Yours, your desire, the pouch of this lover's heart
|
Yours, your desire, the pouch of this lover's heart
|
Purse the heart of this lover
|
Purse the heart of this lover |