Weather greyness of soft mist of fine, love. Everything is so quiet. Everything seems to be even under the blanket, as if to say, no, no, not now, thumb, I sleep a little longer. The sunless days are rare here, they are just better appreciated. It's beautiful gray days, days with low clouds, days sounds fluffy, sweet day based really.
In the Iliad and the Odyssey is the epitome of the gallant old man still on the battlefield.
Today is St. Nestor.
http://fr.wikipedia.org/wi ki / Niobides
* Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)
Mist and rain
O for Fall , winter, spring tempered mud
... Sleeping seasons! I love you and praise you
OF wrap and my heart and my brain
On a misty shroud of a vague and grave.
In this great plain where the cold south wind plays
Where through the long nights vane hoarse,
My soul better than lukewarm revival time
wide its raven wings.
Nothing is sweeter with a heart full of things funereal
And on that long since the frosts descend, O pallid
seasons, queens of our climate
That the permanent aspect of your pale shadows,
- If this is through a moonless night, two by two, D'
sleep on a bed of pain risky.
* Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)
Mist and rain
O for Fall , winter, spring tempered mud
... Sleeping seasons! I love you and praise you
OF wrap and my heart and my brain
On a misty shroud of a vague and grave.
In this great plain where the cold south wind plays
Where through the long nights vane hoarse,
My soul better than lukewarm revival time
wide its raven wings.
Nothing is sweeter with a heart full of things funereal
And on that long since the frosts descend, O pallid
seasons, queens of our climate
That the permanent aspect of your pale shadows,
- If this is through a moonless night, two by two, D'
sleep on a bed of pain risky.
Freedom of expression does not wear that if you do not use it 
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