Первести clouds clouds of heaven, the eternal pilgrim. the azure steppe, chain, pearl rush you, like i, exiles with cute the north towards the south. who are you driving: the fate of a solution? envy you a secret? anger open eh? or you are inconvenienced by the crime? or friends slander poisonous? no, you are tired of barren you alien alien of passion and suffering; eternally cold, eternally free, you have no homeland, no you, exile.
