Читать книгу Сага о гиацинтах. Книга 2 - Сара Шлезингер - Страница 47

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Transforming in the pure palms of Light, the dove of Love touches with fiery lips the innermost phoenix of the heart, running through the hyacinth meadows of dreams, fading on the path of happiness, agitated in the captivity of passion with a kiss of reciprocity. The lust of feelings heats up and dissolves in the delicate bugles of spring grasses, in the windy cradle of the May crossings of waiting. The golden moon is shining, the lonely rustling reeds are singing, and the call is heard everywhere: “Love, come!”

2023