In every soul there is some music. One desire sounds like a violin, the other plays the piano. And sometimes the music just quietly, darkness veiled every moment, does not breathe the air, does not show the inner world. People are usually silent before alone, that their visits fleeting anger, immorality and naivete, what a pity they can not hearme. And if the birds are singing in the heart - it's light, it's beauty.
are singing in the heart - it's light, it's beauty.