by Emily Brontë
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow. And the storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go.
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a pointe to remember by sy delorme (Mojeh Magazine #11 November/December 2012)
Valentino Pre-Spring 2013
The Shepherd: A Documentary from Paris 2002-2006, Yoshie Tominaga