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A ruba'i about finding friendship |
| Once, I was alone. A dying ember, with no home, But then you all came You are my friends, I know. I once had no name. That is some of what you gave, I understand that now. My loneliness no longer strikes me with a glaive. I worked, like an ox at the plough Hard, for some friends, not dour. But now, I have found them. I have them now. |