The glare! The heat! O Nice, you blind me! A dull unease upon me settles… Life, like a bird shot down, strains wildly To fly - In vain! Its wings are fetters, Its broken wings… As in a fever It struggles on, yet is it vanquished: Pressed to the dust it lies and shivers In fear and impotence and anguish…SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.