I know there are those who ask: Why does he not sing with the same wild harmonies as before? But they have not seen the labors of an hour the work of a minute, the prodigies of a year. I am an aged tree that, when I was growing. uttered a vague, sweet sound when the breeze caressed me. The time for youthful smiles has now passed by: now, let the hurricane swirl my heart to song!SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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