Tagore: Children's Holy Land 1Time:2019-08-12 | Release:Inspirational | Category:Classic essay
How many more days? no answer.
The time of ignorance is lingering in the fascination of the ancient times, and the end of the strange road is not seen.
The darkness underneath the mountain is like the eyes of a demon-like demon. The thick clouds of the earth oppress the chest of the sky. The black mist in the cave is like the limbs of a broken nightingale.
The glaring fire of the sky, suddenly and suddenly, is the peep of the red eye of the unknown star?
Or is it the original hunger and thirst that shivers the tongue of blood?
The tear-like mess of the "transformation" seems to be the wreckage of the unfinished game; the broken archway that is squandered by the power of squandering, the forgotten decaying bridge on the annihilated river, the gods who have forsaken The altar of the snake cave is not made into a step that is eroded and hidden into nothingness.
In the meantime, there was a loud noise from the stone, which was the roar of the imprisoned mountain torrents. Or is it a curse of the swearing sorcerer of the sorcerer who is crazy? The screams of the self-destruction of the forest surrounded by the fire?
Under the terrible shackles, there was a slight stream of sound, like a lava erupting from a volcano, which was fused with whispers of sages, despicable shortness, and stupid sharp smirk.
There, the confetti of portrait history drifts in the wind. In the light and shadow of the torch, they are full of fear.
One day, unwarranted suspicion drove a madman to hack his neighbor. The unjust ruling immediately provoked a wide-ranging angry quarrel.
A woman despaired and wailed: "Oh, hey, our lost son has fallen."
A beautiful woman with a mellow body full of youthful wine, smiled and said: "District!"