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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2003-11-24 | | Five…I think, and five they are – Crickets, on the porch… Night…I think, and night it is – When for dreams I search… Stars – like thousands, yet, Spreads are in the sky, And though I raised my arm to get… I didn’t…I still try… And morning when the night becomes I’m listening the sea… She’s whispering all kind of names, But she’s not calling me! Though waves are washing the white sand, From times to times I see How sun is warming up the land That’s crying over me…
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