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Poem	O sing, fair lady, when with me Sad songs of Georgia no more: They bring into my memory Another life, a distant shore. Your beautiful, your cruel tune Brings to my memory, alas, The steppe, the night - and with the moon Lines of a far, unhappy lass. Forgetting at the sight of you That shadow fateful, shadow dear, I hear you singing - and anew I picture it before me, here. O sing, fair lady, when with me Sad songs of Georgia no more: They bring into my memory Another life, a distant shore.
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