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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2012-12-05 | | Autumn sets foot in the park. One bird prepares for flight. I stop, I smell a flower, still scented, I kiss her, and I say farewell to summer. What sadly the lake murmurs saying the pain of centuries! I lean and touch his water with my cheek; I feel his cold caress and I, one more time, say farewell from summer! The bird, the flower, the lake do not know how to cry with tears!
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