KyleiBrown

Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Kyle and I'm excited that you want to know a little more about me..

Bonjour, it's nice to meet you, je m'appelle Kyle and I'm delighted that you wanted to know a little more about me..

Hi, it's nice to meet you, I'm Kyle and I'm excited that you want to know a little more about me..

I don't want to die without hearing from your mouth. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul knowing you're different, lost on other beaches. I don't want to die with this grief for the infinite arch of that sad dome where your dreams dwell in the midday sun. I don't want to die without giving you the golden spheres of my body, the skin that covers me, the trembling that invades me..

I don't want to die without hearing from your mouth. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul knowing you are different, lost on other beaches. I don't want to die with this sadness through the infinite arch of that sad dome where your dreams live in the midday sun. I don't want to die without having given you the golden spheres of my body, the skin that covers me, the tremor that invades me..

I don't want to die without understanding what you're saying. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul, knowing differently, lost on other plagues. I don't want to die with this sadness through the infinite arch of this sad dome where your dreams live under the midday sun. I don't want to die without you giving me the golden spheres of my body, the skin that covers me, the trembling that invades me..

A mystery burns in your eyes, elusive virgin and companion. I don't know if it's hate or love the undying light of your black ally. You will walk with me as long as my body shadows and my sandal remains. - Are you thirsty or water in my way? - Tell me, elusive virgin and companion.

A mystery burns in your eyes, virge elusive et compagnon. I don't know if the fire is the hatred or the inexhaustible love of your black friend. You will come with me as I cast a shadow on my body and I left my sandal. - as-tu soif ou de l'eau sur mon chemin - dis-moi, vierge et compagne elusive - and you will not be able to catch me.

A mystery burns in your eyes, elusive virgin and companion. I don't know if the fire is hate or love inexhaustible of your black ally. You will go with me as long as I cast a shadow my body and left my sandal sandal. -Are you thirsty or water in my path? - Tell me, elusive virgin and companion.

I want to cry because I loved you too much, I want to die because you gave me life, oh, my love, will I never have peace will all that is in me only mean longing. I don't know what will become of me, everything tells me that love will be my end. What despair brings love, I who did not know what love was, now I know because I am not happy.

I want to cry because I love you too much, I want to die because you gave me life, oh, mon amour, n'aurai-je jamais la paixest-ce that tout ce qui est en moi cela signifie juste nostalgie. And I don't even know what's gonna happen to me, all I know is that love will be my end. I didn't know what love was, now I know because I'm not happy..

I want to cry because I loved you too much, I want to die because you gave me life, oh, my love, will I never have peacewill everything that is in me it just means nostalgia. And I don't even know what's going to happen to me, everything tells me that loving will be my end. How desperate love brings, I didn't know what love was, now I know because I'm not happy.

For your green eyes I would lose myself, siren of those whom you used, wise, loved and feared. I'd get lost if I saw your green eyes. For your green eyes, which, fleeting, sometimes glow with melancholy, for your green eyes, as full of peace, as mysterious as my hope, for your green eyes, effective spell, I would save myself..

For your green eyes I miss it, siren of those that Ulysses, sagacious, he loved and feared. For your green eyes I miss it. For your green eyes in what, fleeting, sometimes melancholy usually shines; for your green eyes so full of peace, mysterious like my hope; for your green eyes, effective spell, I would save myself..

For your green eyes I miss you, siren of those who Ulysses, sagace, loved and feared. For your green eyes I miss it. For your green eyes in what, ephemeres, parfois, melancholy shines generally; for your green eyes so full of peace, mystérieux comme mon espoir; for your green eyes, sort efficace, je me sauverais.

You've got me and I'm yours. As close to each other as the flesh on the bones. So close to each other and often so far away... You sometimes tell me that you find me closed, as if made of hard stone, as if wrapped in secrets, impassive, remote... And you would like the key to the mystery... If no one does... There is no key. Not me, I don't have it myself!

You have me and I am yours. so close to each other like meat from bones. so close to each other and, often, so far away... You tell me sometimes that you find me closed, As if made of hard stone, as if wrapped in secrets, impassive, remote. And you would like yours the key to the mystery. If no one has it. There is no key. Not even myself, I don't even have it myself!

Tu m'as et je suis à toi. Si proches les uns des autres comme de la viande avec des os. Si proches les uns des autres et, souvent, si loin! ... Tu me dis parfois que tu me trouves fermé, Comme fait de pierre dure, comme enveloppé de secrets, impassible, distant. Et tu voudrais le tien la clé du mystère. Si personne ne l'a. Il n'y a pas de clé. Pas même moi, Je ne l'ai même pas moi-même!

Sometimes I feel like being corny to say, "I love you madly". Sometimes I want to be a fool to scream: I love her so much. Sometimes I want to be a child to cry curled up in her bosom. Sometimes I want to be dead to feel, under the damp soil of my juices, that a flower grows breaking my chest, a flower, and say: this flower, for you.

Sometimes I feel like being corny to say: I love you madly. Sometimes I feel like being stupid to shout: I love her so much! Sometimes I feel like being a child to cry curled up in her bosom. Sometimes I feel like I'm dead to feel, under the earth moist with my juices, that a flower grows breaking my chest, a flower, and say: This flower, for you.

Sometimes I want to be angry and say, "I love you madly". Sometimes, I feel like I'm crying, I love her so much sometimes, I feel like I'm crying like a child. Sometimes I feel like I'm dead, feeling, under the wet soil of my sucks, that a flower grows on me, breaking my chest, a flower, and saying:.

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces in the night of the soul an dawn, and these pages are of that hymn cadenzas that the air dilates in the shadows. I would write to you, of the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at once sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

I know a hymn giant and strange which announces an dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are of this hymn. I would like to write to you about the man who used the language of the rebel and the mean, with words that were in the same time, with sights and laughter, colours and notes..

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces a dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are from that hymn cadences that the air dilates in the shadows. I would like to write to you, about the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at the same time sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

I offer thee among the bouquets, green gazelles and roses, my naive heart that humbles itself to thy goodness; let not thy loving hands tear it to pieces, thy eyes rejoice in my simple gift. In the shady garden my tired body the morning auras covered with dew; as in the peace of a dream it slips beside you the fugitive instant that rest yearning.

Love of my bowels, living death, in vain I wait for your written word and I think, with the withering flower, that if I live without me I want to lose you. The air is immortal. The stone that is inert neither knows the shadow, nor avoids it. The inner heart doesn't need the icy honey the moon pours.

Love of my loins, living death, I wait in vain for your written word and I think, with the flower that withers, that if I live without me I want to lose you. The air is immortal. The inert stone he neither knows the shadow nor avoids it. Inner heart doesn't need the frozen honey that the moon pours.

I wait in vain for your word, I write and I think, with the fleur that fades, that if I live without me, I will lose you. The air is immortal. The stone is inert. He knows not man and avoids him not. The heart inside doesn't need the honey I've seen the moon.

But I suffered. I'm ripping my veins out, tiger and dove, on your waist in a duel of bites and lilies. Then fill me with the madness of words or let me live in the serenity of the dark night..

But I suffered you. I tore my veins, tiger and dove, over your waist in mourning bites and lilies. Fill my madness with words or let me live in my serene night of the soul forever dark.

You offer among clusters, green gajos and roses, my naive heart that you bonded with humility; no one will destroy your loving hands, your eyes are respected by my father. In the shadowy garden with a tired body the morning auras covered with dew; as the peace of a dream delights in your side the fugitive instantaneously rests again.

When you come to love, if you have not loved, you will know that in this world the greatest and deepest pain is to be at once happy and unhappy. Corollary: love is an abyss of light and shadow, poetry and prose, and where you do the most expensive thing that is laugh and cry at the same time..

When you come to love, if you have not loved, you will know that in this world, the greatest and deepest pain is to be both happy and unhappy. Corollaire: l'amour est un abîme de lumière et d'ombre, of poetry and prose, et où se fait la chose la plus chère qui rit et pleure en même temps. Love is an abyss of light and shadow, of poetry and prose, and where the most cherished thing is done, which laughs and weeps at the same time..

In the heart of the most secret mine, in the innermost fruit, in the vibration of the most discreet note, in the spiral and resonant snail, in the densest layer of paint, in the vein that in the body most probes us, in the word that says most softness.

au coeur de la mine la plus secrète, à l'intérieur du fruit le plus lointain, dans la vibration de la note la plus discrète, dans la conque spirale et résonante, dans la couche de peinture la plus dense, dans la veine qui nous sonde le plus dans le corps, dans le mot qui dit plus doux. I'm not going to tell you what I'm going to say.

In the heart of the most secret mine, inside the furthest fruit, in the vibration of the most discreet note, in the spiral and resonant conch, in the densest layer of paint, in the vein that probes us the most in the body, in the word that says softer,

I offer thee among the bouquets, green gazelles and roses, my naive heart that humbles itself to thy goodness; let not thy loving hands tear it to pieces, thy eyes rejoice in my simple gift. In the garden shaded by my body I weary the morning auras covered with dew; comme dans la paix d'un rêve slide beside you le fugitif instant qui reviendra ansio.

Woman, I would have been your son, for drinking the milk of your breasts like a spring, for looking at you and feeling you by my side and having you in the golden laughter and crystal voice. For feeling you in my veins like a god in the rivers and worshipping you in the sad bones of dust and lime

Woman, I would have been your son, for drinking you the milk of the breasts as from a spring, for looking at you and feeling you by my side and having you in the golden laugh and the crystal voice. For feeling you in my veins like God in the rivers and worshiping you in the sad bones of dust and lime

My slave, fear me. I love you.. My slave and with you the vastest sunset of my sky, and in it my soul rises like a cold star. When they are far from you, my steps turn to me.. My own whip falls on my life. You are what is inside me and is far away. Fleeing like a chorus of chased mist. Next to me, but wobbles, what is far. And what is far beneath my feet walks. The echo of the voice beyond the silence. And what grows in my soul like moss in the ruins.

My slave, fear me. Love me, you know. My slave! I am with you the vastest sunset of my sky, and in it my soul shines like a cold star. When they move away from you my steps return to me. My own whip falls on my life. You are what is inside me and is far away. Fleeing like a chorus of chased mists. Next to me, but where? Far, which it is far. And what, being far away under my feet, walks. The echo of the voice beyond the silence. And what grows in my soul like moss in ruins.

My slave, fear me. I love you.. Slave of mine with thee the darkest sunset of my sky, and it has come to my soul like a cool star. When you're gone, they come back to me. I am my own whip falling on my life. That's where you're inside me and you're far away. Fleeing like a chorus of chased mist. Next to me, but wobbles, what is far. And here I am, far beneath my feet, walking. The echo of the voice is more important for the silence.. And here it is growing in my soul like moss in the ruins.

¿My land is you. My people, my people, it's you. exile and death for me are where you are not. And my life, my life, what is it, if not you?

My landmy land is you. My peoplemy people are you. and exile death for me they are where you are not there and my lifetell me "my life, what is it, if it's not you?

Ma terrema terre, it is you. Mon peuple peuple, it is you. Exil et mort pour moi, ils sont là vous n'êtes pas là et ma vidis-moi ma vie, what is it, if it is not you?

I thought of you, of your hair that the shadow world would envy, and I put a point of my life on them and I wanted to dream that you were mine. I walk through the earth with my eyes lifted up - oh, my longing! - so high that in anger he haunts or miserable redheads set fire to the human creature.

I thought of you, of your hair that the shadow world would send, and I had a point in my life and I wanted to dream that you were a moi. I'm walking the earth with my eyes high. - To such a height that in a rage of rage or in a miserable redness the human creature lights them up.

I thought of you, of your hair that the shadow world would envy, and I put a point of my life into them and I wanted to dream that you were mine. I walk the earth with my eyes raised - oh, my eagerness! - to such a height that in haughty anger or miserable blushes the human creature lit them.

To love is this timid silence near you, without you knowing it, and to remember your voice when you leave and feel the warmth of your greeting. To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the sunset, neither before nor after, so that we are alone among the games and tales of the dry land..

Loving is this timid silence close to you, without you knowing, and remember your voice when you leave and feel the warmth of your greeting. To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the sunset, neither before nor after, so that we are alone between games and stories on the dry land..

Aimer est ce silence timid près de toi, sans que tu le saches, et souviens-toi de ta voix quand tu pars et ressent le chaleur de votre salutation. I love you when you are silent, and I love you when you are silent. To love is to wait for you as if you were part of the couch of sunshine, neither before nor after, for we are alone among games and stories on the land of the dead..

I don't want to die without hearing from your mouth. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul knowing you're different, lost on other beaches. I don 't want to die in this grief for the infinite arch of that sad dome where your dreams dwell in the midday sun.

I don't want to die without hearing from your mouth. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul knowing you are different, lost on other beaches. I don't want to die with this sadness through the infinite arch of that sad dome where your dreams live in the midday sun.

I don't want to die without understanding what you're saying. I don't want to die with a perplexed soul, knowing differently, lost on other plagues. I don't want to die with this sadness through the infinite arch of this sad dome where your dreams live under the sun of noon.

I have searched for you day and night without finding the place where you sing I have searched for you through time up and down the river you have lost yourself in tears nights and nights I have searched for you without finding the place where you cry because I know you are crying I just need to look in the mirror to know You are crying and you have wept for me. Only you save the crying. And from the dark beggar you make him king crowned by your hand..

Days and nights I have searched for you without finding the place where you sing I have searched for you through time above and through the river below You have lost yourself in tears Nights and nights I have searched for you Without finding the place where you cry Because I know you're crying It's enough for me to look at myself in the mirror To know that you're crying and you've cried for me Only you save the crying And of a dark beggar You make him king crowned by your hand.

Days and nights I've searched for you without finding the place where you sing I've searched for you through time in the high and across the river in the low You're lost in tears nights and nights I've searched for you without finding the place where you cry Looking to know that you weep and that you have wept for me you alone save the weeping and a beggar noir you make him crowned king of your hand.

You have me and I'm yours. as close together as flesh to bones. So close to each other and often so far away.!…

You have me and I am yours. So close to each other like meat from bones. So close to each other and, often, so far away!…

You have me and I am you. If you get close to each other like meat with bones. If you are close to each other and often far away! …

The sun shall be darkened for ever, the sea shall be dried up in a moment, the world's axis shall be broken as a broken glass. All will be well, death may cover me with its mournful crescent, but never in me can the flame of your love be quenched..

the sun may be clouded forever; the sea may dry up in an instant; the axis of the earth could break like a weak glass. Everything will happenMay death cover me with your funeral crepe; but it can never go out in me the flame of your love.

The sun can be darkened forever; the sea can dry up in an instant; the axis of the earth could break like a weak glass. All that death covers me of your funeral crêpe, but it can never put out the flame of your love..

Cover me, love, the sky of the mouth with that extreme, snatched-out foam, which is the jasmine of the tasting and burning, sprouted from the coral tip of the rock. Allot it, love, its salt, allot your thundering, sharp flower supreme, bending its fury into the diadem of the stinging carnation that squeezes it.

couvre-moi, mon amour, le toit de ma bouche avec cette mousse extrême extrême, qui est le jasmin de ceux qui savent et de ceux qui brûlent, germé sur la pointe du corail rocheux. I'm going to have to go to the bathroom. I'm going to have to go to the bathroom. Rends-moi fou, mon amour, ton sel, fou ta fleur suprême lancinante et acérée, pliant sa fureur dans le diadème de l'œillet mordant qui se déchaîne (Rend-me your flower, my love, your salt, your flower is the highest and the most powerful).

Cover me, love, the sky of the mouth with this rapt foam extreme, which is jasmine of the taste and of which my burns, sprouted in point of rock coral. Aloca, love, your salt, aloca you nagging acute supreme flower, bending her fury in the diadem of the bite key that the mouth.

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces in the night of the soul an dawn, and these pages are of that hymn cadenzas that the air dilates in the shadows. I would write to you, of the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at once sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces a dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are from that hymn cadences that the air dilates in the shadows. I would like to write to you, about the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at the same time sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

I know a hymn giant and strange which announces an dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are of this hymn. I would like to write to you about the man who used the language of the rebel and the mean, with words that were in the same time, with sights and laughter, colours and notes..

You've got me and I'm yours. As close to each other as the flesh on the bones. So close to each other and often so far away... You sometimes tell me that you find me closed, as if made of hard stone, as if wrapped in secrets, impassive, remote... And you would like the key to the mystery... If no one does... There is no key. Not me, I don't have it myself!

You have me and I am yours. so close to each other like meat from bones. so close to each other and, often, so far away... You tell me sometimes that you find me closed, As if made of hard stone, as if wrapped in secrets, impassive, remote. And you would like yours the key to the mystery. If no one has it. There is no key. Not even myself, I don't even have it myself!

Tu m'as et je suis à toi. Si proches les uns des autres comme de la viande avec des os. Si proches les uns des autres et, souvent, si loin! ... Tu me dis parfois que tu me trouves fermé, Comme fait de pierre dure, comme enveloppé de secrets, impassible, distant. Et tu voudrais le tien la clé du mystère. Si personne ne l'a. Il n'y a pas de clé. Pas même moi, Je ne l'ai même pas moi-même!

The sun shall be darkened for ever, the sea shall be dried up in a moment, the world's axis shall be broken as a broken glass. All will be well, death may cover me with its mournful crescent, but never in me can the flame of your love be quenched..

the sun may be clouded forever; the sea may dry up in an instant; the axis of the earth could break like a weak glass. Everything will happenMay death cover me with your funeral crepe; but it can never go out in me the flame of your love.

The sun can be darkened forever; the sea can dry up in an instant; the axis of the earth could break like a weak glass. All that death covers me of your funeral crêpe, but it can never put out the flame of your love..

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces in the night of the soul an dawn, and these pages are of that hymn cadenzas that the air dilates in the shadows. I would write to you, of the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at once sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

I know a hymn giant and strange which announces an dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are of this hymn. I would like to write to you about the man who used the language of the rebel and the mean, with words that were in the same time, with sights and laughter, colours and notes..

I know a giant and strange hymn that announces a dawn in the night of the soul, and these pages are from that hymn cadences that the air dilates in the shadows. I would like to write to you, about the man taming the rebellious, petty language, with words that were at the same time sighs and laughter, colors and notes.

My love is in a light garment among the apple trees, where the breezes most eagerly long to run in company. there, where the jovial breezes dwell to court the early leaves in their path, my love goes slowly, leaning toward her shadow that lies in the grass. And where the sky is a clear blue cup over the laughing earth, my love walks slowly, lifting her dress with graceful hand.

Je te donne ça, il est important que tu en prennes bien soin et mon amour est en tenue légère parmi les pommiers, où les brises animées durent le plus longtemps run in company I'm going to give you this, it's important that you take good care of it and my love is in tenue légère among the apple trees, where the breezes are animated and you run in company for a long time. There where the jovial breezes dwell to courtise the first leaves on their passage, my love goes slowly, leaning towards its shadow that rests in the grass.. And where the sky is a clear blue cup on the smiling earth, my love, slowly march,. Otherwise, I hope you'll come soon so you can see him much more in detail..

I give this to you, it is important that you take good care of it and my love is in a light outfit among the apple trees, where the bustling breezes most long run in company. Where there jovial breezes dwell to woo to the early leaves in its path, my love goes slowly, leaning towards his shadow that lies in the grass. And where the sky is a cup of clear blue On the smiling land, my love walks slowly, lifting he dressed her with a graceful hand. If not, I hope you come soon, so you can see it in much more detail..

My heart was stolen from me, and love, seeing my anger, said to me, "You were taken away by the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen". Thanks to the supernatural, you've got him in prison. And if love is right, lady, by the signs, you have my heart.

My heart has been stolen; and love, seeing my anger, he told me: you were taken away through the most beautiful eyes that since I have been alive I have looked. Supernatural thanks they have you in prison. And if love is right, lady, by the signs, you have my heart.

My heart was stolen, and love, seeing my anger, said to me, "You have been taken through the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen". Thank you supernaturally they have you in prison. And if love is a reason, madame, by the signs, my heart belongs to you..

The young flowers wither now, clouded by the sun of my hope, hour after hour I tell and my agony grows and my anxiety and my pains. On the glass of rich colours, brightly painted, perhaps my imagination, when the gloomy reality stains the glass and clouds its brilliance..

I have seen the young flowers, trouble the sun of my hope, hour after hour I count and my agony they grow, and my anxiety and my pain. Sur des couleurs rich en verre lisse peut-être que mon fantôme à l'air heureux, quand la triste réalité il tache le verre et obscurcit are éclat I'm not sure what you mean by that..

Withered the youthful flowers, cloudy the sun of my hope, hour after hour I count and my agony they grow and my anxiety and my pain. On smooth glass rich colors maybe my fantasy looks happy, when the sad grim reality it stains the glass and clouds its brilliance.

The eyes turn in their ceaseless yearning, and turn indifferently round the world, and round turn indifferently the sky. To you the complaints of my deep sorrow, beautiful without happiness, I send you: my verses are your heart and mine

I turn my eyes into their incessant desire, and the world turns indifferently, and the sky turns indifferently. I'm sorry for your pain, my heart is in my chest.

I turn my eyes in their incessant longing, and the world spins around indifferently, and the sky turns indifferently around. to you the complaints of my deep evil, beautiful without luck, I send you: my verses are your heart and mine

There are eyes that look, -there are eyes that dream, there are eyes that call, -there are eyes that hope, there are eyes that laugh -pleasant laughter, there are eyes that cry -with tears of sorrow, some inward - others outward. They're like the flowers - the ones the earth nurtures. But your green eyes, my eternal Teresa, those that are making your hand of grass, look at me, dream of me, call me, wait for me, laugh at me laughing pleasant laugh, cry me weeping with a cry of sorrow, from the earth within, from the earth without.

There are eyes that look, -there are eyes that dream, there are eyes that call, -there are eyes that wait, there are eyes that laugh -pleasant laughter, there are eyes that cry -with tears of sorrow, some inwards - others outwards. They are like the flowers that the earth grows. but your green eyes, - my eternal Teresa, those who are making - your hand of grass, they look at me, they dream of me, they call me, they wait for me, they laugh at me - pleasant laughter, they cry to me tearfully - with tears of sorrow, from the inside, - from the outside.

There are eyes that look, there are eyes that dream, there are eyes that call, there are eyes that wait, there are eyes that laugh - a pleasant laugh, there are eyes that cry - with tears of chagrin, some towards the inside, others towards the outside.. They are like the flowers that grow on the earth. But your green eyes, my eternal Teresa, those who make your hand of grass, they look at me, they dream of me, they call me, they wait for me, they mock me - a pleasant laugh, they weep me in tears - with tears of chagrin, from the inside, - from the outside.

Love is a universal experience that touches us all, but sometimes we don't find the right words to express it. Throughout history, poets have been able to express what we all feel in creative and eloquent ways..

If you love me, love me whole, not by areas of light or shadow... if you love me, love me black and white, and gray, green, and blonde, and brown... love me day, love me night... and dawn in the open window! ... if you love me, don't cut me off: love me all... or don't love me.

Love is a universal experience that moves us all, but sometimes we don't find the right words to express it. Throughout history, poets have been able to say what we all feel in creative and eloquent ways..

If you love me, love me whole, not in areas of light or shadow. If you love me, love me black and white, and gray, green, and blonde, and brunette. Love me day, love me night. I'm not going to lie to you. and early morning at the open window! If you love me, don't cut me short: love me all. Or don't you love me.

Love is a universal experience that touches us all, but sometimes we don't find the right words to express it. All along history, poets have been able to express what we all feel in a creative and eloquent way..

If you love me, love me all the way, not in the dark or bright areas. If you love me, love me in black and white, and gray, green, and blond, and brown. I love you all the time. - I'm not. - I'm not. And early in the morning, the window was open. If you love me, you must not interrupt me. Or he doesn't love me..

I remember your face that was frozen in my days, femme en jupe bleue et au front grillé, that in my childhood and on my terre d'ambroisie I saw the black sillon open in a burning April. He leaveth in the tavern, deepeneth the cup impure him that hath attached a fils à ton sein de lys, et sous ce souvenir, qui était une brûlure, the graine est tombée de ta main, sereine. I saw you harvesting your son's wheat in January, and without understanding I had my eyes fixed on you, enlarged with wonder and tears..

Sit down to the table. drink a glass of water. Savor every drink. And think all the time what have you lost. The one you're losing. Time What do you have left to lose