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Ve VAŠEM prostoru redakce Totemu nezodpovídá za obsah jednotlivých příspěvků. |
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This old man and his striped pyjamas the prisoner for life and the sea; and the piano, sounds and horizons
I remember the old days when I was young: everything sounded the same.
Listening to the sea, waves falling... breaking down on the beach sitting on the sand waiting for the past, to lend me a hand again
watching the horizon listening to the sounds of its ivory keys of waves playing freely with the floating foam and see-weed rising and falling waves as far as eye can see rising and falling this old man once sold his life to me and I gave it to the sea falling down on the beach
silence
almost, nearly asleep. |
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