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Лучи проходят меж стволами. Как я люблю тебя! Лучи проходят меж стволами, пламенем ложатся на стволы. Молчи. Замри под веткою расцветшей, вдохни, какое разлилось — зажмурься, уменьшись и в вечное пройди украдкою насквозь. (с) Владимир Набоков
Yes, I'm setting him apart as the First of the royal line, High King over all of earth's kings. I'll preserve him eternally in my love, I'll faithfully do all I so solemnly promised. I'll guarantee his family tree and underwrite his rule. (Psalm 89:27-29 MSG)
...not so much where, but when. ...when the rays of setting sunlight push willingly through the leaves, yet fall gently on the landscape. Yes, I'd like to go there at that time.
“To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” ~ “In Blackwater Woods” by Mary Oliver