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maanantai 11. toukokuuta 2015

SPRING




Where is that little boy,
who are laughing eyes
broke a flower meadow
summery.
Where's the little girl,
which tasted of strawberries
in a wooded meadow.

Hidden in my soul,
throughout all the 
unnecessary memories.
Below is the scar of the wound,
which I do not know how to tie.
The time is to grow up in the land,
time is spring,
of happiness, of love and of the world.

Towards the summer, visit the fairies road,
on the wings of wet air
sometimes painful lie.
Time has burst into bloom willow,
time to grow grass on the villae.
Time is much different,
the scent of myrrh,
from different countries.

The smell of something
brought by the wind,
I stare at melting
channel river bed.
Spring Rocking,
it will become a must
seagulls' wings ride.


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