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A moan of the soil crасked by a heat, the tree that gave a cry of cold, the whisper of happy lovers on a car's backseat, the language of the stars that's getting crisper and clearer as approaching them, the voice of emptiness, the rustle of the pages, the white, the black, the grey, "The Rosy Noise" by Ace of Diamond - that is how the mages hear the names of God. What's in your name, my goddess? You are waving at the waiter and saying upon a quick thought: "Please, the same as he has and a cup of coffee later". * См. перевод в комментарии 1. |
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