Franz Wertvollen. About Grasshoppers (№ 390116)

In the room was dim, smelled of incense and creaking floorboards. Suddenly
one of the balconies flashed white cloth. It's so weird at this late hour, in this
half of the castle, all alone on the balcony sat a girl. Her hair, carefully
combed before bed, but rastrepina, little cutability, they, obedient
any breath of wind danced the scarlet silk ribbon.
Who would have thought that such peace may descend on man just because
somewhere on the wooden balcony on a moonless night, the cold sits a lonely child with scarlet
silk ribbon, barely glinting in the dark.
Beauty is elusive, long-lost and generally it does not happen, but from the moment she
stuck inside me like a bright shard that I almost would call it a hunch. On
the same type of plain all human lives, I would call it timid foreboding mountains.