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Kristut
Those rains - they quite like people. Long, short, small and large - they are good, are uncomfortable, Some haunted insular Way. They come in a crouch, afraid, hiding When the wind clouds, Tired of staying - knocking on the window - only they never dry. They visit the cinema at night the moon while sleeping last long - just briefly, because leaping from cloud jumps in the lake they like as children (Juozas Erlickas. Rain, like humans)
