Chidher (Friedrich Ruckert Poems)
Chidher, the ever youthful, told: I passed a city, bright to see; A man was culling fruits of gold, ...
Chidher, the ever youthful, told: I passed a city, bright to see; A man was culling fruits of gold, ...
I went to knock at Riches' door; They threw me a farthing the threshold o'er. To the door of Love ...
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