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In the invisible it finds its essence,
the life that springs unceasingly,
the small keeps the potency,
of what it is not possible to buy.
That which shines with excessive opulence,
is an expired illusion of chance,
while the great, in its indifference,
is consumed before it arrives.
Happiness knows no coin,
nor does its well-being have a price,
it is a gift in open hands,
that by giving it away, it germinates again.