9 Haziran 1963 Razgrad/BULGARİSTAN
It's an April evening, you and I smell cherry blossoms.
The most refreshing winds blow from you.
In you, I watch the green tide in the whitest of the seas.
I am wandering in the most secluded part of the forests, my sunny joy like mid-morning.
I plucked from you the most faded flowers.
I plowed the most fertile of the lands in you.
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