So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.
What happens if a car comes? We die.
الشعر لم يكتب من أجل تحليله ودراسته ، بل من أجل أن يبعث الإلهام في النفوس دون سبب واضح ، و أن يلمس الوجدان دون فهم واع
And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered.
Poetry, she thought, wasn't written to be analyzed; it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without understanding.
As the warm air blew in the car, simple snapshots of the life they'd lived together surfaced in his mind; but as always, those images led inexorably to their final day together.