Cancer

Cancer is true. Betrayed. Sensual. Get hurt.
Honest in work. It is difficult to replace.
Prefers to give more.
He does not like innovations, it is difficult for him to change his style.
Their intuition is on the verge of mysticism.
He is secretive, such is his charisma.
Doesn't like to stand out from the crowd.
Incredibly memorable. He - with the technique of "You",
But innovations do not delight him. Conservative.
And he observes traditions jealously.
Petrarch, Lafontaine, Gluck, Rubens, and Rembrandt,
You see what their talent is.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Kafka and Chagall,
So surrealism ran through Cancers.
But, to be honest, Cancer does not climb forward,
Slightly - that is not so, he backs away, and surrenders to the side.
He is affectionate. Oh, how playful Cancer is.
He loves to admit "naive".
He is emotional to the limit.
He loves gentle tones, and takes care of the body anxiously.
He yearns for his homeland, for home.
And nostalgia for him is understandable and familiar.
There is - there is a melodrama in it.
There is spinelessness.
There is laziness and impracticality.
Cancer is steam. He likes to shy away
But, nevertheless, to penetrate everywhere, to fill in everything - and to advance.
They have a great home. An exemplary family.
He lives quietly, Without quarrels. And no lies.