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It's raining, my love
Autumn scrapes all the loves together And sadness is but a clowns' joke. It's raining, my love and the cranes' fear is the fifth season. It's only the two of us here, otherwise it's quiet as in a lily's petal ... Where are you I ask, I must ask you where has run away she who used to float the angles' wet stems, she who used to thin the light, dressed in the real slumber, she who used to revive the darkness, she who watched me once with her wet eyes ... The two of us I was lying, with you in the middle of the night, splashed with the blood of the leaves that autumn crowns with ashes. Lost cranes do you remember? grieved the natural for a moment in their flight to the unknown ... A rainy morning It rains over the popular wood it slowly rains over the willage. Drops on the grass, drops that fall asleep on the red apples. I look forward to the daybreak leaned against the writing table. There blows the wind, in the house the rainbow of silence sleeps on the silk of the pillows.
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