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I longed to read in the Zodiac
My doom and my destiny
But never receicved any sign
If what I yearned for should be
When the rains and storms have passed
The storm and rains will come back
But hope ceases not to predict
That is still will come what I lack
I have left my door ajar
For my soul in secret knows
Joy sweet as graapes will come
Late autumn, as the evening goes |