Italian deep south moonset cicada

ambrosine · Wysłany: Pon 16:54, 21 Mar 2011 Temat postu: Italian deep south moonset cicada

middle of the night, abruptly woke up in a moonlight. Wide windowsill, covered with pure, black cherry wood's finish, glowing brightly colored glazed light, at first glance, seems to have old time record porcelain units. The middle window only spider plant is unusually quiet at this time the United States, stands a white jasper general dream.
do not like the curtains shut tight to sleep, began to calm the heart, will not refuse to light and sound. This summer, frequent rain, has given way to night, dribbling too tired. Lack of memory of those who circle the moon [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], appears to have forgotten their own light, my soul ignited reveries, actually fell at the middle of the night I do not know, simply silent. Occasional glance, but also as few words of visit, hastily disappeared in between I woke up and unawakened.
southern sky, not the lack of moonlight. Night round the bridge, how long can this Dark? I know that the virtual indifference of white, surely not the intention of the moon, as the moon waxed and waned, never will be a version. I'm afraid I could not ponder for a long time to weather the confusion in the watch in the deep sleep of fatigue, missed the warmth of full moon; I am more afraid of the wrong definition of calm, happiness will be in the forgotten sorrow abandoned [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], missed the moon dignified affectionate. Half-shutter cage, bright channel is open for me to keep a good line of the wing. I think I must have been waiting for the moment the full moon.
large bay windows, is enough to toss and turn. Always sitting there, looking out the window a lonely world. Favorite piece of neon dotted the river looked, in the solitude of the night reflected on the other side, changing the flow into helpless waves, Yiyi east. Thus, there will be some mixed feelings, to what he saw , the remembered, thought, and pour in the text of the grief among the flood into a river. Time will also flow through the text at the deep vortex of the window years. This place is the highest gift I treat their own. Before the end of the summer, how do I not miss this water, the moonlight.
tuck 坐在窗台上, they can look up to the moon. Sickly tired of lying land, recalled the moment moment [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], we knew it will be throughout the summer, long since gone to the moon, even some moist eyes. Those long-awaited warmth back in the air off the heart, a rain of Qian Nian, has become particularly friendly, more particularly warm.
white horses like the clouds, the moon slowly rise and fall, while far away, while close, while tranquil, quiet moment, and became an instant lofty and vast sky, the overnight Kaihuo a sleepless face in the crowd. I heard the cicadas prolonged, singing the last one this summer, Li Song, in the vast southern night, should be moist and countless joy.
passing in the middle of the season, the cicada is like the poem off the light and warm, the more warm and bright, the more high-pitched singing of the cicada, and enthusiastic. Memories, many years ago, I also have a pure heart cicadas. In fact, people born in the summer, born with a romantic passion, and my bones rhyme [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], but more like the shining in the sun or moonlight, when full of affectionate tribute to depression. Maybe life is not always the summer, perhaps too many years of experience of cold, sad life I do not see there is bright. Do not know the due date, do not know due to what, my passion gradually attributed to silence, the lonely days, full of melancholy. Sometimes, I wonder, am I again experienced a War of the dormant, waiting for the spring time, and then make a painful free oneself it?
If, this is a contract, and I hope that when the southern moonset, captures the watch under Liu Shao, tiled in the quiet of the lake , so that the flow of waves sparkling lake pull more time Long is also longer.
At this point, seems to be in the hand and the look of, clearly there are many smiles on the crisp fragrance of my body, like water, drag me moving. Palms spread out, following which the tenderness of heaven, I was stroking it light touch smile, that care, Piansi this Amberpack the dense, are clear moon shadow. If you can, I would always like to stay in this moment of poetic cantabile.
open the windows to let the wind blowing Come on! South of the moon night, in the Acacia in the warm, in the quiet serenity. If, before dawn, thousands of miles of Acacia have been harvested, which covered will diffuse the fragrance into the poem, infiltration into words, rippling into the calm of life through the text.
do not experience the dark, they do not know the meaning of light; not try nothing, they do not understand the chant of joy. I know that tonight the moon, not only is a traction.
calm after the moon night, is still as before.