There were two voices in her late night. The roar of the cold wind, her sleeplessness. She was thinking of two things. His departure, his return.
Where did he go?
The sky there is always blue and the mood is always happy. The green grass is like the blue stream after the rain in the south, and the wind is warm. The twilight on the long street often circles the ancient monuments on the map, and the lights are warmer than the sun.
And he is warmer than the light.