The daughter of the wind has come
To the gathering
We spoke so much of rain
That winter began to crave the spring
A cloud wanted to rain — it was afraid
To wake the trees from sleep
So softly, quietly, it passed by
At dusk, the sun washes its sweating body in the sea
So by morning it will not rise unwashed
The restless river finally grew calm
Perhaps now it thinks more deeply
In the distance, the sea
As if it overflows the sky
So its azure color will not fade
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