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Love letter
As the unbothered wind which brushes on my face exists freely,
with the ground as witness,
To the flowers which blossoms on each garden,
relentlessly bound to their unchangable fate.
as cruel the first break of winter is,...
with the ground as witness,
To the flowers which blossoms on each garden,
relentlessly bound to their unchangable fate.
as cruel the first break of winter is,...
