“They stood brow to brow, brown to white, black to black, he supporting her elbows, she playing her limp light fingers over his collarbone, and how he "ladored,"he said, the dark aroma of her hair blending with crushed lily stalks, Turkish cigarettes and the lassitude that comes from "lass." "No, no, don't," she said, I must wash, quick-quick, Ada must wash; but for yet another immortal moment they stood embraced in the hushed avenue, enjoying as they had never enjoyed before, the "happy-forever" feeling at the end of never-ending fairy tales.” SaidEndsMomentsFeelingsLightEnjoyBlackDarkWhiteForeverHairFingersTalesEnjoyedFairyBrownImmortalFairy TaleCigaretteAvenuesCrushedLiliesBrowsStalkingNever EndingElbowsTurkishAromaAda Author:Vladimir Mayakovsky
“There’s no grandfatherly fondness in me, There are no gray hairs in my soul! Shaking the world with my voice and grinning, I pass you by, - handsome, Twentytwoyearold.” WorldSoulVoiceHairMy SoulGrayHandsomeShakingFondnessGrinningGray Hair Author:Vladimir Mayakovsky
