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Old and rare audio recordings Please don't forget to subscribe to the channel and activate the alert to watch all that's new - What is it, my love, what is it.. Oh, the wound of my world that never heals, Oh, you who left the heart bleeding in the groans of regrets, moments that passed in fear like an echo that flies away, lost across the years, What is it, my love, what is it.. After what the days of torment have brought upon it, and the heart that is infatuated with the mirage, and it is he who casts the morning upon hope and spreads it from his ecstasy the longing of the canary, and arranges the rosy melody for the day, even with the night covered in darkness, his singing gives life, he gives the arts. What is it, my love? What is it? After the promises have faded and folded, after the buds have withered in their sheaths, after stubbornness was adorned with suspicions, what is it, my love? What is it? And with peace, to you from my heart, a bouquet of tender love, to you from my eyes, a tear of the pouring rain, to you from my madness, oh my madness, a thousand colors, to you from my heart, what is and what is not, and to you, peace, my longing and my questioning, what is it, my love? What is it?