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Silence is the forest again. Autumn brings her a thought and a foreboding for snow ... Have I written verses here? The morning she shuffled and rays the colors! The path even the golden holiness is shining. How much longer will I go? in her silence wisely? Today poisonous feathers with pirouettes curling her. Sheep amazed again the poems unsealed: "Here comes the heavy snow! In it crocuses glow. "