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Тарас Бульба, Бумажные города и м . д

Autumn as a timid hope, full of gentle sadness. During this period, we often indulge in melancholy, conceal our uncertainty and vulnerability.
Wind gallantly circling his partner in the dance, fall in silk dress. Bashfully look down on them bare trees, to part with their variegated garments.
The autumn air is still warm cloud wrapped like a scarf. This life energy is concentrated in the heart of its permanent owner - glowing late afternoon drive. The sun sits down, and with it goes the heat, warming all around.
Daytime sounds loud and sonorous, sleep, giving way to his night nurse, insinuating and quiet. She looks out the moon and followed her friend's stars. The faithful guardians of the dark secrets of the sky and the earth, do not hide from you any discerning eyes, biting his lips, no searing kiss.