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A moon full of shimmering honey,
Exuding joy.
What bird beats in my heart?
Fly away—away, but not alone.
What am I shy? What?
Thick empyrean wine.
I’ll take a wicker bottle,
To the cemetery alone…
The holy Balshemtov walked in the field
In the cold dawn went walking in the field
As winds were blowing from the north.
Bitter cold from the north.
His limbs started to freeze.
Once his limbs were…