The Southern wind came back but she didn’t see him. He never called, he never showed. And within his hands he didn’t bring the southern fruits he used to gave her, and within his palms there were no colourful flowers and within his fingers he didn’t bring the mild songs of the southern singers and from his chest no violet butterflies flew. She forgave him easily…After all, she has always preferred the winds of the North.
неделя, 1 ноември 2009 г. § 0
