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More gold from the trees not all fallen,
The branches outside scrape against the glass.
The birds in the gardens have long branched off,
The reeds dried on the stakes.

Thick mists cling to the house,
White clouds in blue skies.
Such a nature should inspire
Lovers, that rush on the sails.

I love how connected the fate of,
In a new life both will float.
To all rejoiced those, that have fallen in love,
They chose their only path.