Love is a burning fire without being seen;
A happy unhappiness;
A aching wound that one doesn't feel;
A uncontentious contentment;
Pain that bothers without aching;
It is not wanting more than wanting well
A lonely walk amidst the crowd;
Never enough pleased for being happy;
Knowing that loss is gain;
It is to be willingly imprisoned;
To serve who wins, the winner,
To have loyalty to the one who kills us.
But how may its favors cause
Friendship in the human heart,
If exactly the opposite is really Love ?
Luís de Camões
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