Falling blossoms are another beginning.
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Illumination needless, I shine faintly
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Being light and shadow, being time and poetry.
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At the corner of old streets, my hope rises new.
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Even if I walk alone, I will not lose myself.
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Deserve to be cherished, do you really cherish?
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Spring is nothing special, except the one I’m in.
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Soft and far, while time knows who we are.
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