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and touching the Asta moutain with delay, the sun is taking more time in completing his journey. It seems the sun's speed has slackened, otherwise why the days are longer these days?
Here the power is only: the heat... the heat.... the heat....!
By whom has the greenness been stolen? Then, what is the greenness of the green fit for? The tenderness of the flexible creepers, the sweetness of the ripe fruits, all have gone where? Where is that slow blowing of the fragrant wind, that mild gust of breeze, that swinging of the clusters of fruits? Where is the smile of flowers, the moment to moment clapping of leaves, the buzzing of the black bees living on honey
Silent Soil :: 179
