I rode to meet you: dreamslike living beings swarmed around meand the moon on my right sidefollowed me, burning.I rode back: everything changed.My soul in love was sadand the moon on my left sidetrailed me without hope.To such endless impressionswe poets give ourselves absolutely,making, in silence, omen of mere event,until the world reflects the deepest needs of the soul.
-Alexander Pushkin
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