Bună, Răbdare! Du-mă unde n-am mai fost niciodată!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"Yet hints come to me from the realm unknown;/ Air drift across the twilight border land,/ Odored with life;/ ... whispers to my heart are blown/ That fill me with joy I cannot speak,/ Yea, from whose shadow words drop faint and weak."
0 comments:
Post a Comment