I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. After that time nothing shall save you. If you can imagine it, I survived it. —I do not congratulate you on your success. It is she that I must see. The musician.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 12-07-2024 08:50:19
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