"Gripped with bitter cold, ice-locked, Petersburg burned in delirium. One knew: out there, invisible behind the curtain of fog, the red and yellow colu...
The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense...
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