Длинна mp3: 01:58
Текст произведения: 216
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Публикация: 2016-11-16
Far over the misty mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day To find our long forgotten gold The pines were roaring on the heights, The winds were moaning in the night, The fire was red, it flaming spread, The trees like torches blazed with light.
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