When the beautiful woman was here, the hall was filled with flowers, Now the beautiful woman`s gone, the bed is lying empty. On the bed, the embroidered quilt is rolled up: no-one sleeps, Though three years have now gone by, I think I smell that scent. The scent is finished but not destroyed, The woman`s gone and does not come. Yearning yellows the falling leaf, White dew beads the green moss.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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