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Sound, sound, violin, transfer me to your memory; Surround me with the notes of your serene nuances that when I touch my bow, when my fingers squeeze your fine neck of dreams you will awaken my soul moving to the skies
of winding roads by stars and let them dance to the melody of the greatest mysteries. You gave me one day
the nostalgia of the memory, sometimes my crying other times the yearnings to become your notes
immersed between sleepless nights of clamorous storms or a thousand serene whistles; that's how you sound, violin, accompany me in my dreams
See more information about Alfons Fernandez Gregori
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