the wind [Theme] Page 4

My spring, thank you for coming so brightly and swiftly, for being at the right time. Then, when the thirst in the depths of the soul of that new, bright and warm life reached its maximum. Thank you for letting me see the forest in the fresh haze of bird cherry leaves, thank you for the softness of the carpet of anemones, for the many-voiced bird choir. For a fresh gentle wind. For the sun Behind the bright stars is a narcissus in the young grass. For the smells of the earth in the garden. Thank you for the scatterings of spring saffron and for the opportunity to feel it in bright fragrant buns. For the opportunity to sit with freshly baked muffins and fragrant tea and watch the sunset rays play in the room. Smiling at the shadows from the swaying curtains. Live. Rejoice. Be silent.

Tramp wind, what a tramp man. He also does not find a comfortable place for himself.

Someone else's authority excites the minds of people in the same way as the wind shakes the crowns of trees.

Big Dipper…

Spring is when the windows are wide open, even at night, when you jump up at 6 in the morning and run to meet the dawn, when you want to be tender, feminine and beautiful, arrange tulips throughout the house and lay a white tablecloth for breakfast, hang floral curtains, and let the wind casually fingered them, and sunbeams jumped on the walls, put on a pale pink dress with beautiful sandals and wait for her to come - blooming, light, tender, turn your head and fill the air with a delicate aroma of romance.

- The reins of government are in your hands, why should you execute? You just have to be carried away by good deeds yourself, and all the people will immediately rush to everything good. For a noble man, virtue is wind, for small people it is grass; the grass bows to the wind.

I didn't watch the weather... What's the wind like today? From which side should Zoya be approached so that she doesn’t smell the cognac?!

A large moon, resembling a silver dollar, floated between the piles of clouds; the wind drove them along this dark airy river like gilded boats. The moonlight reflected in the windows of the buildings, making them look like dull, unpleasant eyes.

The shores are full of greedy sheep.

I wanted to tell him that the pool, the garden, the house, the tennis court, the paradise and the whole villa would be his ghostly place. But he pointed up to the French windows of his room. Your eyes are forever there, I wanted to say, in the folds of tulle, staring intently from my bedroom, where no one sleeps now. When the wind blows and the tulle rises, and I look at it from here or stand on the balcony, I catch myself thinking that you are there, looking out of your world into mine and saying, as on that day at the stones: I

Butterflies are flowers that the wind accidentally plucked and breathed life into them as an apology.

Outcome: Instead of becoming the captain of our own ship called "Life", for some reason we choose the role of a sailor on someone else's ship. And then we are surprised that the dream disappeared beyond the horizon from unfulfilled hopes, we will leave behind only waves of regrets ...

When he indulged in dreams over the swift surface of the river, his desires were carried away after the running water, the wind that ran through the countless treetops beckoned him.

By the light of the moon, I looked at his pale forehead, at his closed eyelashes, at the golden strands of hair that the wind picked through and said to myself: all this is just a shell. The most important thing is what you can't see with your eyes.