Читать книгу Сага о гиацинтах. Книга 1 - Сара Шлезингер - Страница 67

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A mysterious look in the glare of the moon tunes the strings of the heart, and the sound of the song flies among the lonely stars of dreams, erasing the crystal of tears in the long rivers of waiting. Between the ice of days, the cheerful laughter of Love shines through in the snow-covered gardens of forebodings; waiting for the whiteness of featherbeds in the bed of voluptuousness, and one feels the delicate aroma of languishing caresses with a spring drop of beautiful love desires.