"The season is mild, and the air is neither hot nor cold: the clouds cleanse the dust from the faces of the rose bushes; the nightingale in its language speaks to the yellow flowers, and whispers that wine must be drunk."
Created by d'Araprì
"The season is mild, and the air is neither hot nor cold: the clouds cleanse the dust from the faces of the rose bushes; the nightingale in its language speaks to the yellow flowers, and whispers that wine must be drunk."
Created by d'Araprì