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Visitors since 11 August 2001

Poetry is what is lost
in translation.
It is also what is lost
in interpretation.

An Interlude

I remember the way we parted,
The day and the way we met;
You hoped we were both broken-hearted,
And knew we should both forget.

And the best and the worst of this is
That neither is most to blame,
If you have forgotten my kisses,
And I have forgotten your name.

Algernon Charles Swinburne