sunnuntai 22. joulukuuta 2013


During market saw a clown dancing.
So the joy of the dance of sorrow Did he?
There was a tear in his eye, traces of dried-up.
I walked past, with its bit of a cheap diner.
I wanted to dance to a clown to hand out
rose-red. The blade slip sheets he pulls the eye because
Tearing eyes.
Then a smile broke out while dancing in the clown's mouth.
He said to me: thanks for the election of the roses
until it withered away.
I put in a glass vase then drying.
Oh fresh rose glow yet,
then, when its time to dry her life all glowing.

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