single door open

Three single door open.
Single door.
In front, the mountain.
The vast cloud passes;
all yours ... all yours.
Hurricanes of winds;
semiparallel walking rain
and in all the mount cheerful, natural funerals,
of dead leaves.

Earthly hair dances all the same
to the sound of invisible trumpets that come from the seas.

Autumn is here; death came ...
But not for everyone!
Today leaves and animals will die.

But they will not die forever and, in their transformation tomorrow
will give
with more heat
to the earth,
of his death,
day after tomorrow,
buds of hope.

And I have not died.
I'm glad of the rain
And I'm glad of the wind.
If I'm cold, I get hot;
If I'm afraid, I don't have it!
I whisper and think ...
and for tomorrow
I have already eaten my little portion of hope.

Three single door open.
A single huge door.

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