| Back | "I think, scathed as you look, and charred and scorched, there must be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesion at the faithful, honest roots: you will never have green leaves more--never more see birds making nests and singing idyls in your boughs; the time of pleasure and love is over with you: but you are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to sympathise with him in his decay." |
|---|---|
| Front | En aquel momento, una luna color de sangre apareció momentáneamente entre las nubes para volver a ocultarse tras ellas después. |
Tags: spn, 192spn
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