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Her princes were once brighter than snow
    and whiter than milk.
Their bodies were more ruddy than coral,
    more precious than sapphire.
Now their faces are blacker than soot,
    and no one recognizes them in the streets.
Their skin has shriveled tightly over their bones,
    as dry as a stick.
More blessed were those who died by the sword
    than those who died of hunger,
with their limbs wasting away,
    deprived of the produce of the field.

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