Le temps passe le reste s efface. Un peu de moi parmis tant d otre. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below. Pou la la qu ede souvenir.

The position of the blocks have been saved. Sun, March 22, 2015.

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans. Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,. The emptiness of ages in his face,. And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair,. A thing that grieves not and that never hopes. Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? Whose breath blew out the light within this brain? I have plans t.

The position of the blocks have been saved. Did you like this profile? Thu, January 15, 2015.

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