winter [Theme] Page 46

Snow... he manages to fly, even in dreams... even in the summer, because the winter for some reason I never dream.

Winter strikes at the heart of all life, animate and inanimate. If not for the artificial fires of merriment, if not vanity, created for life, and the mad pursuit of profits traders experience if not for the luxurious shop Windows that traders arrange both inside and outside their stores, if not for the brightly colored advertisements, which abound in our streets, if not for the crowd scurrying in all directions of pedestrians, we quickly would feel, how hard the icy hand of winter lays upon our hearts and how gnitude those long days when the sun to give us enough heat and light. We are not aware of the extent to which is dependent on all these phenomena. In fact, we are the same insects, brought to life by heat and dying from it.

I was not told as a child that all will be well,
Loud and bright,
Not say that winter is hot...

In winter they used, looking for traces and signs of the summer and found them in the basement or in the evening bonfires on the edge of the pond, turned into a skating rink. Now, in the summer, they were looking for even the slightest sound, though reminders of the forgotten winter.