Love is a fire that burns unseen,
A wound that aches yet isn't felt,
An always discontent contentment,
A pain that rages without hurting,A longing for nothing but to long,
A loneliness in the midst of people,
A never feeling pleased when pleased,
A passion that gains when lost in thought.It's being enslaved of your own free will;
It's counting your defeat a victory;
It's staying loyal to your killer.But if it's so self-contradictory,
How can Love, when Love chooses,
Bring human hearts into sympathy? (Luís de Camões)

Love is a fire that burns unseen, A wound that aches yet isn't felt, An always discontent contentment, A pain that rages without hurting,A longing for nothing but to long, A loneliness in the midst of people, A never feeling pleased when pleased, A passion that gains when lost in thought.It's being enslaved of your own free will; It's counting your defeat a victory; It's staying loyal to your killer.But if it's so self-contradictory, How can Love, when Love chooses, Bring human hearts into sympathy?

Luís de Camões

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defeat felt fire free human lost love midst nothing pain passion people thought victory wound yet hearts burns

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