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Poem	Now, in twilight, on the palace steps the king asks forgiveness of his lady. He is not duplicitous; he has tried to be true to the moment; is there another way of being true to the self? The lady hides her face, somewhat assisted by the shadows. She weeps for her past; when one has a secret life, one's tears are never explained. Yet gladly would the king bear the grief of his lady: his is the generous heart, in pain as in joy. Do you know what forgiveness mean? it mean the world has sinned, the world must be pardoned --
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