There is something of an old icon in autumn ...
The same gold, the same burns.
And someone behind this gold, calm,
Here, without blinking, looks and gazes ...
Like the frame of an icon, the trees turn black.
And there is no one, Only a look to the core ...
And I want to kneel before everyone
And so, in silence, stand until morning.
Anatoly Kyshtymov
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Pieces | 150 |
Size | 900x600 |
Complexity | simple |
Added | Tatia |
Published | 10/8/13 |
Players | 30 |
Best time | 00:00:07 |
Average time | 00:32:28 |
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