Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
калинка моя!
Ἄκουε τὰ ἀπὸ καρδίας.
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"It is because we enter into the meditations, designs, and destinies of something beyond ourselves that the contemplation of the ruins of human power excites an elevating sense of awfulness and beauty. It is therefore that the ocean, the glacier, the cataract, the tempest, the volcano have each a spirit which animates the extremities of our frame with tingling joy. It is therefore that the singing of birds, and the motion of leaves, the sensation of the odorous earth beneath, and the freshness of the living wind around is sweet. And this is Love. This is the religion of eternity, whose votaries have been exiled from among the multitude of mankind." - from “The Colosseum” (1818)(Source: fuckyeahshelley)
