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š‘°š’Žš’Žš’š’“š’•š’†š’š’š’† immortelle stories
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abimopectore
abimopectore Have you ever felt this way?
Autoplay OFF Ā  ā€¢ Ā  15 days ago
For the people who grew up on the karst, who know how its like to bloom from the stones and spite.

š‘°š’Žš’Žš’š’“š’•š’†š’š’š’†

The brush of mistral on my skin

Brings a question when did all this begin?

Maybe with a smell of rosemary

That is green even in January

Or perhaps it was lavander, immortelle or sage

That announced this desired age

And my utopia, my beloved home

On which bottles with messages roam

It carries the name of Adriatic sea

A place which answers my every plea

Will I miss seagulls and their sound?

Every stone on the ground?

The sweet feeling of my memory

From the stories from this century

A part of me will forever be yours

A place from which I opened my doors

Where I first laughed, where I first cried

In the vineyard where wasp stung my pride

And times when I climbed an olive tree

This is a goodbye, because I have a world to see

All the things I imagined to feel

From the people, who my heart, will steal

And I will somewhere be, somewhere live and sleep

Some other wind will hear my weep

But nobody will ever know

Where did my heart grow

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