How can I have a fight with my best
friend?
The mountain blows, the landscape is destroyed.
A desert where
there once were fields and gardens.
Black lava where flowers once brought
joy.
And then shoots of grass come through the
blackness;
Slowly love asserts itself again.
He calls, I cry, we go
through days of whispers,
And fields once more grow lush in sun and
rain.
Ah! but now I'm fearful of the
mountain:
I walk by trembling, set for it to blow.
Life's beautiful, but
also very painful;
I have the strength to love, now that I
know.
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