In a very quiet and beautiful small town, there is a pair of very loving lovers, they go to the beach every day
to see the sunrise, and go to the beach at night to send off the sunset, everyone who has seen them cast envious glances at them.
But one day, in a car accident, the girl was unfortunately seriously injured, she lay quietly in the hospital bed
on the days and nights did not wake up. In the daytime, the boy stayed in front of the bed and kept calling out to his unconscious lover
; in the evening, he ran to the church in the small town to pray to God, and he had cried out his tears.
A month passed, the girl was still sleeping, and the boy had long been emaciated, but he still struggled
to hold on. Finally, one day, God was touched by this infatuated boy. So he decided to give this persistent boy
an exception. God asked him, "Are you willing to give your life in exchange?" Without hesitation, the boy
answered, "I do!" God said, "Well then, I can make your lover wake up soon, but you have to
promise to be transformed into a dragonfly for three years, are you willing?" The boy listened, but still firmly replied, "I am willing!"
The day dawned and the boy had turned into a beautiful dragonfly, and he said goodbye to God and flew hurriedly to the medical
hospital. The girl was really awake and she was talking to one of the doctors beside her about something, but unfortunately he couldn't hear her.
A few days later, the girl recovered and was discharged from the hospital, but she was not happy. She asked around about the boy,
but no one knew where he had gone. The girl searched for him all day long, but the boy, who had long ago transformed into a dragonfly,
was always around her, only he could not shout, he could not embrace, he could only silently
suffer from her invisibility. As summer passed and the cool winds of fall blew the leaves off the trees, the dragonfly had to leave this
li. So he flew down on the girl's shoulder one last time. He wanted to caress her face with his wings and kiss her forehead with his tiny
beak, yet his weak body was still not enough for her to notice.
In the blink of an eye, spring came, and the dragonfly couldn't wait to fly back to find her lover. However, next to her familiar figure stood a tall, handsome man, and for a moment, the dragonfly almost fell out of mid-air
. People spoke of how sick the girl had been after the accident, described how kind and lovable
the male doctor had been, and how much their love had been taken for granted, and, of course, how happy the girl had been as before.
The dragonfly was heartbroken, and over the next few days he would often see the man with his lover
watching the sunrise on the beach, and then the sunset at night, while he himself could do nothing except occasionally land on her shoulder
.
The summer was particularly long that year, and the dragonflies flew agonizingly low every day, and he no longer had the courage to approach his erstwhile
lover. The murmurings between her and the man, his happy laughter with her, suffocated him.
By the summer of the third year, Dragonfly had stopped visiting her lover so often. Her shoulders were gently embraced
and her face gently kissed by the male doctor, there was no time to pay attention to a sad dragonfly, and even less mood
to miss the past.
The three-year period promised by God is fast approaching. On the last day, the dragonfly's former lover marries the
male doctor.
The dragonfly flew quietly into the church and landed on God's shoulder, where he heard the lover below swear to God
: I do! He watched as the male doctor put the ring on the hand of his former lover, and then watched them kiss sweetly
. Dragonfly shed tears of sadness.
God sighed, "Do you regret it?" The dragonfly wiped away the tears, "No!" God said with another
hint of pleasure, "Then, tomorrow you can change back to yourself." The dragonfly shook his head, "Just let me be
a dragonfly for the rest of my life ......"
Some destinies are doomed to be lost, and some destinies will never work out well. To love someone is not necessarily
to have, but to have someone is to love them well. Do you have a dragonfly on your shoulder?
If you see this story, it's because someone is silently blessing you, because you also love a
someone around you.
The girl was 18 years old and owned a flower store. Every day very early in the morning she got up, humming a bouquet of flowers wrapped, in order to put in the window, red roses, green plantain, fresh and pleasant lilies ...... she tended with care, full of smiles, seems to be able to understand the language of each word.
Every day at dusk there will be a teenager to send flowers, of course. Not specifically for her, he was a salesman at the main flower store. He does not like to talk, every time he comes, just according to the number on the bill of lading clear right after leaving. His slender figure and quiet face.
Later it was realized that he was a mute, deafened in an accident, and of course could not speak.
The next day, she made a lot of labels with slips of paper and stuck them in the store. For example, where the ice water was and where the phone was. She collected many newspapers and magazines and put them on the counter table. He would sometimes flip through them without thinking. Gradually, the teenager became cheerful and began to talk to her with a pen, supplemented by gestures. She gained insight into his worries, sorrows, bitterness and joy.
The girl turned 22. The girl had always wanted to tell him that she loved him, but was too shy to do so. She wrote those three words and pressed them under a glass of water, the boy saw when he drank the water, the smile on his face gradually converged, full of solemnity, his body seemed to be slightly trembling. After the boy left, the girl saw the note he wrote: I can not ruin your life's happiness, please forgive, goodbye. The girl read it and wept.
Two months later, the boy appeared frequently in the flower store again. Because the girl had a car accident, although not life-threatening, but since then can not speak. The girl also began a life of using a pen to communicate with people. Everyone around her felt sorry for her, but she was happy.
Finally, one day, the boy wanted to propose to the girl, with 99 red roses wrapped inside, surrounded by a starry sky, written on the top of the words "love long time", and solemnly gave it to the girl, who took it, tears streaming down her face.
After the marriage, the man contracted a piece of land in the suburbs, hiring a florist to breed flowers, and then in the picking to the city's florist, the business is getting bigger and bigger, life is more and more beautiful. On the day of the tenth anniversary of the wedding, the man went to the jewelry store to choose a gift for her - an oversized platinum diamond ring. Back on the way to the car accident, was sent to the hospital, and never woke up. The woman jumped on him, shouting his name, "wow" out of tears. The crowd was stunned, the woman said
, you're gone, I have no need to play dumb.
We all realized that the original woman in order to let the man to accept her, do not hesitate to do ten years "mute".
Respondent: Embrace the fire of the stars - Apprentice Wizard II 12-4 19:58
Vanka
Nine-year-old Vanka Zhukov, three months ago to the shoemaker Aryahine to do apprenticeship. On Christmas Eve, he didn't lie down to sleep. He waited for his boss, his wife, and a few of his men to go to church, then he took a small bottle of ink from his boss's stand, a pen with a rusty nib, flattened a piece of crumpled white paper, and wrote a letter.
Before he wrote the first word, he glanced worriedly a few times toward the door and window, and squinted at the dimly lit idol, which was flanked by two rows of shelves filled with lasts. He sighed and knelt in front of the workbench, laying the sheet of paper on it.
"Dear Grandfather Constantine Makarich," he wrote, "I am writing to you. I wish you a merry Christmas and ask God to bless you. I have no father or mother, and you are the only family I have."
Vanka looked toward the darkened window, which reflected the blurred shadows of the candles; he imagined his grandfather, Constantine Makarich, as if he were right in front of him. --Grandfather was the night-watchman in the house of Master Zhifarov. He was a very funny, thin old man, 65 years old, always smiling and blinking. During the day, he always slept in the big kitchen. At night, he puts on a wide sheepskin coat, bangs the clapper, and walks around the villa. The old female dog Kashidanka and the male dog Loach followed him with their heads down. Loach was a very obedient and very pleasant dog. His body was black and long like a weasel's, so he was called Loach.
By now, Grandpa must be standing at the front door, squinting at the red, shiny windows of the country church. He must have been stamping his feet in his high felt boots, his clappers hanging from his belt, and he was freezing and shrinking and shrugging his shoulders ......
It was a beautiful, clear day, not a breath of wind, and it was dry and cold and dry. It was a moonless night, but the whole village -- the white roofs, the wisps of smoke coming out of the chimneys, the trees covered in frost, the snowdrifts -- was visible. The sky was sprinkled with stars blinking happily, and the river looked clear, as if someone had polished it with snow for the holidays.......
Vanka sighed, dipped the tip of her pen, and went on writing.
"I got a beating last night because I fell asleep without realizing it while rocking the cradle for their little cub. The boss grabbed me by the hair, dragged me out into the yard and beat me with a belt. This week, the boss's wife told me to clean up a mackerel, and when I got it up by the tail, she fished the mackerel out and poked me right in the face with the beak. The guys tease me, they send me up to the hotel to get a drink, they tell me to steal the boss's cucumber, and the boss casually fishes up a guy and beats me. And the food, there was simply none. A little bread in the morning, gruel for lunch, and a little bread in the evening; as for food and tea, only the bosses themselves ate and drank. They tell me to sleep in the aisle, and when their little cubs cry, I don't want to go to sleep, so I have to rock that cradle. Dear Grandpa, have mercy, take me away from here and go home to our village! I can't take it anymore! ...... I'm on my knees to you, and I'll always pray to God for you. Take me away from here, or I will die! ......"
Vanka bristled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her dirty hand and huffing.
"I will rub your tobacco for you," he continued to write, "and I will pray to God for you. If I do something wrong, you can beat me solidly. If you are afraid that I will not find work, I will ask the housekeeper, for God's sake, to let me polish shoes; or I will ask Figeka to promise me to help him with the sheep. Dear grandfather, I can't stand it any longer; there's only death in store for me! I ...... would have run back to our village, but I have no shoes, and I am afraid of the cold. When I grow up, I will take care of you, and no one will dare to bully you.
"Speaking of Moscow, it is a big city, the houses are all old men's, there are many horses, no sheep, and the dogs are not at all fierce. At Christmas, the little children here do not walk around with star lights, and no one is allowed to just go up to the choir in the church and sing. Once I saw in the window of a store hooks sold with fishing rods and wires, which caught all kinds of fish, and were very expensive. There was one that could catch a big catfish that weighed about a pound. I also saw some stores selling all kinds of guns, just like our boss's gun, which I think cost a hundred rubles a piece. In the butcher's store there were mountain snipes, and partridges, and hares,...... but where those things came from, the shopkeeper wouldn't say.
"Dear grandfather, when his lordship hangs the sweets on the Christmas tree, please pick a golden walnut and hide it in my green box."
Vanka sighed sadly and stared blankly out the window again. He remembered how it was always Grandpa who went out into the woods to cut down the Christmas tree, and how Grandpa always took him with him. What happy days! The frozen mountains chirped, and Grandpa coughed in the cold, and he coughed ...... along with him. When it was time to cut down the Christmas tree, Grandpa smoked a pipe of cigarettes, then snorted for a while, and laughed for a while with little Vanka, who was freezing. ...... Many little fir trees, clothed in thick frost, stood motionless, waiting to see which one should die. Suddenly out of nowhere a hare jumped and arrowed across the snowdrift. Grandpa couldn't help but call out, "Catch it, catch it, catch it! Hey, short-tailed ghost!"
Grandpa dragged the cut tree back to his lordship's house, and everyone got to work dressing the tree.
"Come on, dear Grandpa," Vanka then wrote, "I beg you, for Christ's sake, to take me away from here. Have mercy on this unfortunate orphan. Everyone here beats me. I'm so hungry and alone, I can't tell you how hard it is. I cried all the time. One day, the boss hit me on the head with a last and I fainted, only to wake up easily. I had no hope for my life, I was worse than a dog! ...... My greetings to Alyona, to the one eyed Egor, to the coachman. Don't let the bystanders take my little organ. Your grandson Ivan Zhukov. Dear grandfather, come on!"
Vanka folded the scribbled paper in four and put it into an envelope, the one he had bought for a kopeck the night before. He thought for a moment, dipped it in ink, and wrote the address.
"Countryside Grandpa collect"
Then he scratched his head, thought some more, and added a few words.
"Constantine Makarich"
Satisfied that no one had disturbed him in writing his letter, he put on his hat, and, without even a ragged coat, and wearing only his shirt, he ran out into the street....... He had asked the butcher's mate the night before, who had told him that the letters should be dropped in the post box, and from there they would be distributed to all parts of the country by mail carts. There were three horses on the cart, ringing bells, and a drunken letter carrier. Vanka ran to the first mailbox and stuffed his precious letter inside.
After an hour, he fell asleep with sweet hope. In his dream he saw a warm bed, on which sat his grandfather, on two legs, reading his letter ...... The loach walked around the bed, wagging its tail ......
The little scribe
Sulio was a fifth-grader in elementary school. 12 years old, a dark-haired, fair-skinned boy. His father works as a clerk on the railroad and has many sons and daughters younger than Syrio. The family lives a poor life, but there is still not enough money. The father did not feel burdened by the number of children, but loved them all. He did everything for Syrio, except for his schoolwork, which he pushed him to do. He did this in the hope that his son would graduate early so that he could find a better job to subsidize the family's living.
The father's face looks even older because of his hard work. The family's livelihood rested on his shoulders. He worked on the railroad during the day, and took over the copying of documents from other places, and wrote at his desk until late every night. Recently, a magazine company asked him to write the signatures to send magazines to their subscribers in large block letters, and he was paid 60 cents for every 500 signatures. It was hard work, and the old man often complained to his family over dinner:
"My eyes seem to be going bad. This night work will shorten my life!"
One day Syrio said to his father, "Father, let me write for you. I can write as well as you!"
But his father refused anyway, "Don't. You should use your homework. Homework is a big thing for you, it's just an hour, and I don't want to take up your time. Though you have such good intentions, I must not ask you to suffer. Don't say that again."
Syrio, who had always known his father's temper, ceased to plead, and only secretly was thinking of ways. Every night, he didn't hear his father stop working and go back to his bedroom until midnight. On several occasions, as soon as the clock struck twelve, he immediately heard the sound of a chair being dragged backward, followed by the sound of his father's footsteps gently returning to the bedroom. One night, when Syrio had waited for his father to go to bed, he got out of bed, dressed quietly, and went softly into the room where his father was writing, and lighted the kerosene lamp. On the table lay a blank signet and a list of magazine subscribers. Syrio then took up a pen and wrote in his father's handwriting. In his heart, he was happy and a little afraid. After writing for a while, the signatures gradually more and more, he put down the pen, rubbed his hands, raise the spirit to write again. He wrote with a smile on the one hand, and on the other hand, he listened with his ears to hear if there was any movement, for fear that his father would get up and see him. He wrote to one hundred and sixty sheets, counting up to twenty cents, before stopping, put the pen where it was, put out the light, tiptoeing back to bed to sleep.
The next day at lunch, my father was very happy. It turned out that he hadn't realized it at all. Every night, he just mechanically copied from the roster, put down his pen as soon as the clock struck twelve, and woke up in the morning to count the signatures. That day my father was so happy that he patted Syrio on the shoulder and said:
"Ay, Syrio! Your father has not yet grown old! Last night, in three hours, I had to do a third more work than usual. My hands are still nimble, and my eyes are not yet blind."
Though Syrio said nothing, his heart was quickened. He thought, "Papa doesn't know I'm writing for him, and thinks to himself that he hasn't aged. Good! Let's do this!"
At twelve o'clock that night, Syrio was up and at work again. Several days passed in this way, and still father did not know. Only once, while eating dinner, did Father say, "How strange? Lamp oil has suddenly cost more lately." Syrio laughed at this, but fortunately his father said nothing more. After that, he still got up every night to copy.
Syrio, because he got up every night, didn't realize that he was not getting enough sleep, and felt tired in the morning, and dozed off in the evening when he was reviewing. One night Syrio fell asleep on his desk, the first time he had dozed off since he was born.
"Hey, pay attention, pay attention! Do your homework!" His father called to him, clapping his hands. Syrio opened his eyes and continued to review his homework. But the next night, and the third night, he dozed off again. The situation got worse and worse, either he fell asleep on his book or got up late in the morning. When he reviewed his homework, he always looked tired, as if he was tired of his homework. When his father saw this, he reminded him of it many times, and at last he even became angry, though he had never scolded his children. One morning, his father said to him:
"Syrio! You are so sorry for me! Aren't you a changed man from what you once were? Pay attention! The hopes of the family are in you. Do you know that?"
Sirio was scolded for the first time since he was born, and it was hard on his heart. He thought, "Yes, this cannot go on for long, it must stop."
But that day at dinner, his father said happily, "Listen, everyone, we've made six dollars and forty cents more this month than last month!" He took a bag of candy out of a drawer and said he had bought it to celebrate the whole family. The children all clapped their hands in delight. Syrio, too, revitalized and much restored in spirit, said to himself in his heart, "Ay, it is better to do so again. Use more labor during the day, and still work at night!" The father then said, "Six dollars and forty cents a mile! This is very well, but this boy--" here pointing to Syrio, "he really grieves me!" Syrio suffered the rebuke without a word, and held back the tears that would have burst forth, but rejoiced in his heart.
After that day, Syrio worked as hard as ever, but fatigue added to fatigue, and it was hard to support him. After two months of this, his father continued to scold him, giving him a more and more terrible face. One day, his father went to the school to see the teacher to discuss with him about Syrio. The teacher said, "Yes, it's all right that his grades are good, for he used to be very clever. But he is not as attentive as he used to be. He yawns all the time, as if he wants to sleep, and he can't concentrate on his homework. He was told to write an essay, and he wrote a little bit of it, and the words were scribbled, and he could have written a little better."
That night, his father called Syrio to his side and said to Syrio in a harsher manner than usual:
"Syrio! You know how I work hard to feed my family. Don't you realize? I'm risking my life for you! And you don't even think about it, and you don't care what happens to your parents and brothers!"
"Ah, that's not true! Don't say that, father!" Syrio screamed as he fought back tears. He was about to tell everything that had happened when his father cut him off again:
"You should know the family's situation. A family has to work hard to support itself, you should have known that. Haven't I worked hard to do double the work? I thought the railroad was going to give me a twenty dollar bonus this month, and had already pre-determined the use of it. I didn't expect to learn today that there is no hope for that money."
Syrio, hearing this, swallowed the words again at the back of his throat, and said over and over again in his heart,
"Gee, I can't tell you, but I'd better keep it to myself, and help papa. Sorry dad place, can be compensated from other aspects. The school work, originally is not to make it pass with effort. But more importantly, I want to help my father feed the family and relieve his fatigue a little. Yes, that's the right thing to do."
At the end of another two months, the son still continued to work night after night, and was tired during the day; and the father was still angry when he saw his son. The saddest part was that the father grew cold toward his son. He seemed to think that the boy was too unfaithful to be of any hope. So he did not speak much to him, and would not even see him. Syrio was so sad to see this. When his father turned his back on him, he almost knelt down to him from behind. Fatigue coupled with grief made him weaker and weaker, paler and paler, and he seemed to study less and less. He knew himself that the night work must cease. Every night when he went to bed, he used to say to himself, "From this night on, really no more getting up in the middle of the night." But at twelve o'clock, this determination suddenly relaxed, as if, by not getting up in his sleep, he had shirked his duty and stolen the family's 20 cents. So he could not help getting up still. He thought that his father would one day get up and see him, or, while counting the slips, would chance to realize that he had done something. At that time, even if he didn't say anything, his father would naturally know. With this thought, he continued to work every night.
One day at dinner, my mother thought Syrio looked worse than usual. She said:
"Syrio! Are you unwell?" And with that she said to her husband:
"Syrio doesn't know what's wrong with him, look at how blue he is - Syrio! What is the matter with you!" It was said with great sorrow.
Father glanced at Syrio and said, "Even if there is an illness, it is his own doing. It wasn't like this before when he was using his strength."
"But wasn't it because he was sick?" When the mother finished, the father said this:
"I have long since left him alone!"
Syrio's heart felt like a knife in his throat when he heard this. His father had left him alone! This was the same father who used to worry so much about him even coughing. His father truly did not love him anymore, and no longer had eyes for him as a person. "Ah, father! I can't live without your love! --No matter what, please don't say that. I'll tell you all, and not hide it from you any longer. As long as you still love me, no matter what, I'll surely put in as much effort as before. Ah, this time I am really determined!"
Syrio's resolve remained useless. The force of habit made him rise again by himself in the middle of the night. Getting out of bed, he thought to take one last walk to the place where he had been working for months. He went in and lighted the lamp, saw the blank signet on the table, and feeling a little sad that he would never write again, he could not help taking up his pen and beginning to write again. Suddenly his hand moved and knocked a book to the floor. All of a sudden, all the blood in my body seems to rush to my chest: "What if my father wakes up? This is not a bad thing, it doesn't matter if I found out, I have already tried to make it clear several times. But if Dad wakes up now and walks in, and sees me, how will Mom be surprised? Moreover, if father finds out now, he will be very sorry for the way he has treated me during the past few months." --So many thoughts came to his mind in a flash that Syrio could not sit still. He side of the ear, held his breath to listen, can not hear any noise, the family are sleeping quietly, and then let go of the heart, back to work. The street has the sound of police shoes, the sound of hooves and wheels gradually away, after a while, there is a train of trucks rolling past. Later, all was quiet again, except that dogs were often heard barking in the distance. Syrio gripped his pen hard to write, the tip of the pen clattering on the paper.
In fact, by this time, his father was already standing behind him. The book fell to the floor, and his father woke with a start. After a long time, the sound of the van passing by caught the sound of his father opening the door. Now his father had walked in, his gray-haired head bent over Syrio's little black head, watching the pen tip move. The father understood everything that had happened in the past. His chest was filled with infinite remorse and love, and he stood motionless as if nailed to the spot.
Sullio suddenly felt someone holding his head with two shaking arms, and he screamed out "YA!" He screamed out. When he heard his father's sobs, he screamed,
"Father! Forgive me! Forgive me!"
The father held back his tears, kissed his son's face and said,
"Rather, I want you to forgive me! I see, everything is clear! I am so sorry for you! Come on." With that he picked up his son and walked over to his mother's bed and handed him into her arms.
"Quickly kiss this good son! Poor thing, he hasn't even slept for three months, laboring for the family. And I only scolded him like that!"
The mother embraced her good son, and could scarcely speak:
"Good baby, go to sleep!" And to the father, "Please go with him!"
The father picked Syrio up from his mother's arms and took him to his bedroom, where he placed him on his bed, put a pillow on him and covered him with a quilt.
Syrio said again and again:
"Father, thank you! Go back to sleep! I am well enough, you go to sleep!"
But the father remained crouched on the edge of the bed waiting for his son to fall asleep. He held his son's hand and said,
"Go to sleep! Sleep! Good baby!"
Syrio was so tired that he fell asleep. It had been months since he had been able to get a good night's sleep until today, and even his dreams were quick. When he awoke, the morning sun had risen high. Suddenly, he realized that on the edge of the bed, near his chest, lay his father's white-haired head. So that's how the father had spent that night. He had put his head close to his son's chest and was still asleep!
Japan, please listen to me Shui Junyi 2004 from The Frontier
Looking for the Bottom Line Yu Qiuyu 2004 from A Thousand Years of Sighing
Four People One Should Encounter in One's Life Old Rain 2004 from Online]
Brushing Your Teeth with Your Left Hand Old Rain 2004 from Liaoning Youth
True Friends Old Rain 2004 Published under the "Banyan Tree" website
Who is the woman who loves you the most in the world Old Rain 2004 from the Internet
Scarf Plankton Cai 2004 from the Internet
Classical Funny Love Letters by myself 2004 from the Internet
The Farthest Distance in the World by myself Translation of Tagore's Essay 2004
Kindred Spirits, a Light That Will Never Go Out The most distant distance in the world I translated Tagore's article 2004
The most distant distance in the world
It's just about time to start listening to the 23rd episode of Xu San Guan Selling Blood, and the whole book has reached its climax. I have a vague sense of the finale already.
A kind of desolate feeling was born from the bottom of the heart, slowly soaked through the whole body. It was as if there was a boulder pressing down on my chest, as if there were a thousand words that could not be expressed
. I was already about to run out of courage to listen to it again.
The story takes place in the 50s and 60s at the beginning of the liberation, when Xu Sanguan was still a young man, he was constantly oppressed by the life around him, in order to live, not
have to not work hard, but still can not guarantee a living, he can only use the sale of blood to maintain, and whenever there is no other way out, will think of using the sale of blood to solve. With
the passage of years, Xu Sanguan's body is getting worse day by day. He insisted on selling blood once every 15 days to pay off his debts in order to cure his son, which eventually led to
a serious illness.
There are certain responsibilities that a man should take on, and perhaps this is one of life's helplessness. But there is also humor, such as every time before selling blood
drink enough eight bowls of water, so that there will be more blood on the body, and so on and so forth strange ideas are very much.
Towards the end, Xu Sanguan wants to eat pig's liver, and there is no money around, so he decides to sell his blood once for himself, but when he gets to the hospital, the doctor says that his blood can only be
sold to a painter to paint furniture, and at this point he feels that his life has come to an end, and that there is no longer any use for it. He sat and cried.
The specific plot of the novel is very lifelike, like telling what is happening around us every day, without much writing skill or gorgeous
vocabulary, however, in this confused era, we don't have to intentionally pursue something, as long as there exists a feeling, it is already enough!
I listened to it in a website called Listen to the World, for free. It's because after signing up for their membership, you can listen online for free. There are so many great things to listen to! There are also a lot of songs and movies to download for free!
Good things to share together-/
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Let's give you a listen to this.
The World's Most Mind-blowing Words
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Success Wealth Love Inspiration Life Friendship Wisdom & Culture Truth Honor & Faith Ideals & Destiny ......
Hope you like it. Listen online for free!!!