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      Adam MickiewiczUncertaintytłum. Jarek Zawadzki

      1
      Away from thee I never weep nor sigh,
      And lose I not my mind when thou art nigh.
      But if for a while I have no word with thee,
      There's something missing, someone I must see.
      5
      I wonder, yearning thus for days on end:
      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
      When thou hast gone, I cannot in my mind
      Recall thy face though gentle so and kind.
      However, oft I feel, yet wish it not,
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      That it is somewhere really near my thought.
      And all these doubts of mine may never end:
      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
      I suffered much, but reckoned not, as yet,
      To go and let thee know my sad regret.
      15
      With no idea where my feet should go,
      How come I find thy house I do not know;
      And neither at thy door my doubts may end:
      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
      To save thy health, my life I would expend;
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      To grant thee peace, to Hell I would descend.
      Though in my heart no bold desires I nest,
      Do know that I would be thy health and rest.
      But still these doubts of mine may never end:
      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
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      And when thy hand lies gently in my palm,
      My mind grows quiet, and my soul is calm;
      Meseems my life may in this sleep depart,
      But wakes me up the beating of thy heart,
      And thus return my doubts that know no end:
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      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?
      Composing this my song for thee, my mind
      Was not to any bardic mood inclined;
      I am amazed myself, it baffles me
      How I have found the thoughts and rhymes for thee,
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      To finally write these doubts that may not end:
      Art thou my love or maybe just a friend?