|
[Aug. 10th, 2011|09:48 am] |
Upon my flowering breast which I kept wholly for him alone, there he lay sleeping, and I caressing him there in a breeze from the fanning cedars.
*** When the breeze blew from the turret, as I parted his hair, it wounded my neck with its gentle hand, suspending all my senses.
(Sv.Jānis no Krusta) |
|
|