The dull wind, muffled in secrecy,
lays the low lines of the river
as the cold hand, dressed in leather,
holds the ropes of the bells still.
...
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What a melancholy song this one sounds? The ending is really dramatic. 'The sun ignored the church this day and the close-by the rriver, too held its tongue.'
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What a melancholy song this one sounds? The ending is really dramatic. 'The sun ignored the church this day and the close-by the rriver, too held its tongue.'