I will buy a house in the village, where the cherry is under the window.
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Where I will drink water from a clean stream.
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Where is the fragrance of flowers, let not friends understand.
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Forgive my city, I'm suffocating.
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I fly, I press on the gas, I swallow the dust of the roads.
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So I hurry to you, my quiet corner.
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Like a butterfly to the light, like a bee to a flower.
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I'm flying to you, my island of happiness.
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Cold spring water.
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I will fill the jug.
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And the soul, my soul, breathes with purity.
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Hidden paths lure me.
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And the ringing of the mountain river is crystal.
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In the summer wash, the dust of city roads.
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And the aroma of ripe raspberries.
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And so my soul sang.
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An island of happiness meets me.
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Happiness island.
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I will go out in the morning to bow to the sun.
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And I will name, the soul languishes for whom.
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Everything will sing around, but in the green of the branches.
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A friend echoes me - a nightingale in love.
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Cold spring water.
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I will fill the jug.
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And the soul, my soul, breathes with purity.
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Hidden paths lure me.
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And the ringing of the mountain river is crystal.
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In the summer wash, the dust of city roads.
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And the aroma of ripe raspberries.
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And so my soul sang.
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An island of happiness meets me.
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Happiness island. |