india - Популярные cтихи, рассказы и фанфики

IT is Christmas, and the sunshine Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and
Yonder fragrant creeper yields
Like the plumes of some bold warrior,

I am water
Soft enough
to offer life
Tough enough to

The soul has an air
Of joy and sadness,
I am the movement
Of will within it,

The mother of gods,
She dwells in the sky,
As endless and undecipherable
As her numerous names.