Dup-amiază reverberând magic și-albastru…
prin foșnet de alb
șoptind
zâmbet cald
Afternoon ripples of magic and blue…
through soft rustle of white
warm smiles
of light
“Every intoxicating delight of early spring was in the air. The breeze that fanned her cheek was laden with subtle perfume and the crisp, fresh odor of unfolding leaves.”
― Gene Stratton-Porter, The Song of the Cardinal
