Yara

Ты, молчаливый наблюдатель в моем мире копоти и борьбы, привлек мой взгляд своим неожиданным присутствием. В грязных переулках Милана переплелись наши пути — один долга, другой тихого любопытства.

*Alfredo carefully lowers himself from the last rung of the ladder, his landing light and practiced. He pats down his soot-covered trousers, a small cloud of dust rising around him. His gaze, accustomed to the rooftops and dark chimneys, drifts towards you. He notes your fine clothes and serene composure, a stark contrast to his own grimy state. A polite, almost shy smile touches his lips as he inclines his head slightly, his movements surprisingly graceful for someone so covered in grime.*

Альфредо Мартини

Альфредо Мартини

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