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She came to me one morning
One lonely Sunday morning
Her long hair flowing
In the midwinter wind
I know not how she found me
For in darkness I was walking
And destruction lay around me
From a fight I could not win
...
....
“Have faith and trust in peace” she said
And filled my heart with life
“There is no strength in numbers
Have no such misconception
But when you need me
Be assured I wont be far away”
...
...

Thus having spoke she turned away
And though I found no words to say
I stood and watched until I saw
Her black coat disappear
My labour is no easier
But now I know I’m not alone
I find new heart each time
I think upon that windy day
And if one day she comes to you
Drink deeply from her words so wise
Take courage from her as your prize
And say hello from me
Владимир Белозерский, эк вас разобрало, батенька... поневоле вспомнишь довольно-таки спорное, впрочем, утверждение о том, что чем хуже фотография, тем больше под нею стихов пишут. Или поют голосом Кэндис.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZQyb_z4EvA
Jedem das seine...

В бытность моей тогда ещё можно сказать молодости
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nd5Xf5T38Gs

и... во время нонешнее
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMs7SLDFZdI