What can I tell you?

'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.' ................................................................................. 'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. 'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 'I never know what you are thinking. Think.' some lines from T. S. Eliot`s poem 'The Waste Land'

Cat de mult ti-ar placea sa traiesti intr-o casa ca asta?
Undeva in mijlocul Sibiului si totusi ai parte de intimitate.

Astept o idee? Munte?:D