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Fiery woods and golden trees are glittering beneath clear sky. |
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Silver mist at every morning and lonely ravens scream up high. |
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Beholding the great vast forest. I ean see the colours of autumn. |
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Nightly frost that made flowers withered is silent messenger of whole life's doom. |
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Melancholy mood within nature. I feel cool touch of upcoming snow, |
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which is born somewehre in North. Northernmost at the end of the rainbow. |
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The burning colours of autumn, such a beatuiful garment for death! |
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Last flashing of once vitality, but already I can feel dying breath. |
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Not so long within further time is all what I see the grip of frost. |
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That's the eternal cycle of birth and death. |
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Fiery woods and golden trees are glittering beneath clear sky. |
|
Silver mist at every morning and lonely ravens scream up high. |
|
Beholding the great vast forest. I ean see the colours of autumn. |
|
Nightly frost that made flowers withered is silent messenger of whole life's doom. |