English En
  • Deutsche De
  • English En
  • Français Fr
  • Русский Ru

We use cookies to personalise content and ads, to provide social media features and to analyse our traffic. We also share information about your use of our site with our marketing and analytics partners who may combine it with other information you've provided to them or which they've separately collected from you. You also may to see our Privacy Policy. By clicking the OK button below, you accept our cookies.

Authors:

The splendors of the firmament of time. May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not; Like stars to their appointed height they climb. And death is a low mist which cannot blot. The brightness it may veil.

Percy Bysshe Shelley