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It didn’t work out, my love, I couldn’t learn how to live. I began with enthusiasm, but left it half-finished. I couldn’t find a way; I grew narrow, believe me. Now, to the next one... People said, “You’ll get used to it with time.” I got used to time, but never to myself. The same thing always lingered in my mind—not me; Perhaps that’s why I became numb. Maybe I achieved some things, But I don’t know what good they did. I wanted silence, not applause, Because in silence I could hear myself. It