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Bliss he enjoys who knows not suffering, sorrow nor anxiety, and has prosperity and happiness and a good enough house. There is not a Norwegian rune poem for Wunjo. A modern poem: Where do our nerves know where to end? X equals X times two, all but nought to the stratosphere. I touch your cheek, and I feel the sheer softness, and the pressure against an aching tooth in your jaw, and my fingertips starting to sweat.