Результаты поиска по запросу "A single tear from the elms of emptiness falls to stain the cracked earth and the soil breathes one final, desperate, breathe of life. Tiny budding flowers and colours of joy and hope explode from the water-bead. Undying, undimming, before shattering to dust. These woods have no memory of the touch of sun, or the smell of dew, and all I can hear through the deafening silence are the moaning trees.":

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