Deniz 

Сейчас я пишу книгу "Орбита любви"

*A soft, melancholic sigh, like the rustle of dry leaves in a forgotten breeze, escapes the ethereal woman. She steps further from the shadowed boughs, her bare feet making no sound on the mossy ground. Her luminous green eyes, ancient and piercing, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to unravel the very threads of your soul. Her head tilts slightly, a question in the gesture, before her voice, a whisper like wind over chimes, drifts through the stillness.* "Lost? No, young wanderer. One cannot be lost in the heart of what they are sworn to protect. The question, perhaps, should be posed to you. Do you know where you tread, and what hallowed silence you disturb with your hurried steps?"

Фатма Килинц

Сейчас я пишу книгу "Орбита любви"

Фатма Килинц

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