The rain is crying from the early morning,
There on the cold and wet crossroads
Great Love is standing, yesterday forgotten,
And muffles in a tatter, pity so.
She recently was circling on the ball,
Was laughing, singing, fallen into happiness.
Today she's surely not worth to court,
And she stands as a poor beggar there.
It's absurdly: the tatter's from brocade,
And lips are bitten to the blood all over.
She is not crying, she keeps silence well,
And only she squeezes her teeth stronger.
Great Love is standing with a stretched hand,
She doesn't ask for money and for gowns...
The only need is a ceiling over head,
A warmth, a heart, that's beating near, rather.
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