It is foolish to fight
love.
– This is all so
colorful. This country certainly gets under my skin.
– That is the way of
the East.
Drifting hours... pale moon shadows through Babul trees. Native song... weird, plaintive melodies. Fading stars... A perfumed breeze from lotus, jasmin and Moghra trees. These nights of the East are strange and wayward things.
Drifting hours... pale moon shadows through Babul trees. Native song... weird, plaintive melodies. Fading stars... A perfumed breeze from lotus, jasmin and Moghra trees. These nights of the East are strange and wayward things.
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