I was listening to Chopin’s “Spring.”

It was coming back, the spring I saw and felt

when I lived inland in my old cottage.

The flowers of blossoming almond trees,

the black soil and the greening of trees leaves,

the flowers on the roadside and

the intense aroma of nature.

Living in an apartment high up seasons come and go

I thought I had forgotten.

But Chopin had brought back memories.

Before I die, I would like to hear his music

again, it gives me harmony in my mind.

◄ they call it love

droplets ►


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