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They have borne you tales of your lover,
Of slanders what a host!
But never could they discover
What wrung my soul the most.

They made a pother uncivil,
With doleful shake of the head;
They whispered I was the devil,
And you believed all they said.

But none of them knew wholly
What far surpassed the rest—
The greatest evil and folly
Lay hid in my own breast.
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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