Do not grieve, little birds,
over the falling blossoms:
They're not to blame, it's the wind
who loosens and scatters the petals.
Spring persists in leaving us,
don't hold it against her.
over the falling blossoms:
They're not to blame, it's the wind
who loosens and scatters the petals.
Spring persists in leaving us,
don't hold it against her.
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