Friday, March 20, 2015
Wild Strawberries Comments
Rating: ★5.0
It is that time of my life when in me I sadly behold
Around me merely few yellow leaves, or none do still at late autumn hang
Upon those boughs which like my rusted bones and brittle wrinkled skin shake against the cold,
Bare ruined waning choirs, who were late to migrate, the sweet birds their melodies sang.
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7/28/2025 10:02:40 AM # 1.0.0
