The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine. "In return for the odor of my jasmine, I`d like all the odor of your roses." "I have no roses; all the flowers in my garden are dead." "Well then, I`ll take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain." the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself: "What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?"SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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