A garden without flowers is like a life without dreams.

Every flower path a river of life,
a tender swaying under blue lust.
Every flower path a kiss of love,
a colorful being in sweet abundance.

In spring the wind hums
Every child knows that
The grass turns green
The flowers colorful
And then when the little bee is buzzing...
Then the world becomes quite colorful.

If clouds pass over the ground on Agnese Day, the harvest always remains healthy.

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