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ROMANTIC MOON
When the moon shines in the night mist, with his scythe tender and shiny, my soul aspires to another world, enchanted by infinite distances. The woods, the mountains, the snow-white peaks, I hasten in dreams as a spirit sick, I watch the world peaceful, and softly cry and breath the moon. I absorb this pale splendor, as an elf sway in a web of rays, listen to the silence talkative. I was away the torment of others, it was a foreign land with his fight, have a cloud, a breath of breeze.
(Konstantin Balmont)
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