February 2012
65 posts
“Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his...”
– — Oscar Wilde, The Young King
“A flower - shrivelled, bare of fragrance,
Forgotten on a page - I see,
And...”
– Alexander Pushkin, from The Flower
“All is for you: the daily prayer,
The sleepless heat at night,
And of my...”
I always wonder why birds stay in the same place...
-Harun Yahya
