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Do you ask what I am doing, O Fichardus, pious care of the gods?
Themis and Phoebus now drive me crosswise.
Phoebus is our love; the goddess has sensed our love:
It is equal to die in love for Phoebus or for Themis.
You once read our loves as sacred gifts to Phoebus:
Now may you read these sacred gifts for Themis.
They are very small. Do not despise the small: grace exists in little things,
and it has its own: God is Love, so that he may be small.
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