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Maiden with the mouth so rosy,
With the eyes so sweet and clear,
Ever am I thinking of thee,
O my little maiden dear.

Long are now the winter evenings,
Ah, what would I give to be
Sitting in thy little chamber,
Chatting cosily with thee.

I would press a thousand kisses
On thy little snowy hand;
I would let my tears fall on it,
On thy little snowy hand.
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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