Fair world, where are you? Turn back again, sweet blossom-age of nature! Alas, only in the fairyland of song lives still your fabulous trace. Deserted mourn the fields, no god appears before my eyes. Alas, of that life-warm image only its shadow remains.
Fair world, where are you? Turn back again, sweet blossom-age of nature! Alas, only in the fairyland of song lives still your fabulous trace. Deserted mourn the fields, no god appears before my eyes. Alas, of that life-warm image only its shadow remains.
wandersong 3 months ago