| It was a day in that blue month september
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| Silent beneath the plum trees slender shade
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| I held her there
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| My love, so pale and silent
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| As if she were a dream that must not fade
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| Above us in the shining summer heaven
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| There was a cloud my eyes dwelled long upon
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| It was quite white and very high above us Then I looked up And found that it had gone
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| And since that day, so many moons in silence
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| Have swum across the sky and gone below
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| The plum trees surely have been chopped for firewood
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| And if you ask, how does that love seem now
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| I must admit, I really cant remember
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| And yet I know what you are trying to say
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| But what her face was like, I know no longer
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| I only know I kissed it on that day
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| As for the kiss, I long ago forgot it But for the cloud that floated in the sky
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| I know that still and shall forever know it It was quite white and moved in very high
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| It may be that the plum trees still are blooming
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| That womans seventh child may now be there
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| And yet that cloud had only bloomed for minutes
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| When I looked up It vanished on the air |