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Ashara
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asharas: The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead
asharas: beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command
asharas: the bird sings as if to say that delight is easy, for those who desire it
asharas: What bothers you more, stepmother? That I am common, or that I am competition?
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