It was the night filled with the magic of tranquility, punctuated by the steeple of the village church;
All abodes have fallen asleep for there was only few flickering lamps lit like dimming stars;
Waving golden wheat fields now appeared as being painted deep dark blue.
Here and there are a few shrubs, mostly hedges around the houses of peasants can be distinguished
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I get the message actually I have been thinking about it this morning, after last night I like to encourage independent writes van- Gogh-like pains I might have caused by my writes are simply too great I need to tone them down by writing solely on Scriptures Pious and edifying to the hearts
i will figure out the middle road i encourage everyone to write about the matters of the heart so i can write about the soul all ladies, you are so good at romance please write, but not on me please seriously!