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The Lonely Willow

 

Willow’s over the river

A tear quietly drops

She is too tired to shiver,

Wasn’t born in a copse.

 

No one is around her

No one to embrace…

Only the wind has found her.

Is she in such disgrace?

 

How hard it is for the willow

To stay here all alone,

Looking at the swallow,

Which all the trees know.

 

She has no one to talk with,

...

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52 Hertz

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