of flowers Is calling us,
leaning clouds,
rising mist,
creating the beautiful sensation,
no jealousy, nor hatred,
where live fairy
faces,
far from the world, close to the
heart; a land where
nothing but
compliments, the emotions
tied up in a thread,
flashing like
beads;
where the nectar is poured by
the moonlit sky; life
becomes the
philosopher's stone, Let's go
on that place, and
would be
mingle with the celestial fragrance,
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