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it is not far wayit is not far away the windthat carts gloom over a countrysidesuddenly overhung with cloudsfar away the hills are angry facescovered by tears from the clouded mirrorsof the sky they are condemned statueswalking over this the gloom stabsjudgement,coldness contracts muscles,the hills become smaller lost in grimnesswalking through forest reserves eavesdroppingon cicadas composing infinite love songsthe immutable mind inverts reasonsdeadness falls like far away branchesthis is no country for happy people
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