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The mist unfolds its veil as the night falls in the forest |
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The moisty wind forces the trees to sing their sorrow. |
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For centuries they are standing still like a petrified dream. |
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Traped bodies in a wooden web, tall towers of another epoch. |
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This sweet melancholy that is brought by the precious memory |
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The Pale Beauty of the |
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Past is kept in the whisper of the wind. |
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Only the fragile heart can understand the charm of the old. |
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The best things in life are those we can't have yet, still we hope. |
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Blessed will be the day when the circle will be complete. |
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Then the song of the muse will be heard again the mourning of the trees will stop. [Solo : Sotiris] |
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This sweet melancholy that is brought by the precious memory |
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The Pale Beauty of the |
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Past lost in the vortex of time. |