When the wind singing
between the spring force
a touching aria.
That moment, and I imagine
I grow my inside words,
to build the imagination
like peers.
It minute nap
sleeping spring,
under dark clouds.
And also I myself
I spend a lot of time sleeping.
Perhaps more greenery
soon arrives landscape
Spring may be the wings of a ride.
The landscape come alive,
and also the author
natural law wakes up, part of
their share of love.
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