Night In Gale Forgot

Page 1

Oh, forest, my father my sweet black father! The time of wandering Gypsies has passed long ago. But I see them, they are happy and strong and clear like the water. You see how it is running: it wants to speak. But it has no words, poor one. The water does not look back: it runs far, it flies away where nobody sees it, disappears the water.

Oh Sweet Maiden, Please Don’t Leave!


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