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