My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain.
There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
Ah, Aphrodite, if I sing no moreTo thee, God's daughter, powerful as God,It is that thou hast made my life too sweetTo hold the added sweetness of a song.There is a quiet at the heart of love,And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
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