![I admit I've been looking for you for too long. I wandered through past lives to meet you in Marseilles, at that time I owned wonderful lands, I would have liked to treat you to dry red wine, but you were not there. Not in that life, not in that city, not anywhere, or so it seemed to me. I've been to Rome, Naples, St Petersburg, Vienna, Paris, and even Rio, but you weren't there. It seems that in my fourth life, I grew roses in Amsterdam, if you only knew how many bouquets of fresh flowers went out waiting for you. I remembered that you were very fond of Greece, but I didn't find you there either. In one of the last lives, I almost despaired, I wanted wine like hell, it was impossible to go back to France, and only Georgia could give me a more beautiful wine. After a long walk, tired, exhausted and battered, I came to a vineyard in Kakheti, in the midst of a huge grape Kingdom, there was a small house: wooden Windows, a cozy architectural view of that time. the door was open and there was a bottle of Mukuzani on the table. My thirst was mercilessly consumed by the wonderful wine, SIP by SIP, like a hungry vampire at a blood transfusion station. I started to think about searching again, but suddenly, I heard a cough from behind, as if someone had called me a CAD, without uttering a single word. You know, when I turned around and saw you in your house dress, which was decorated with grape spots, I didn't want to believe my eyes at all. I have been looking for you among English princesses and Russian tsars, I have been looking for you at shows in Milan and Madrid, and all this time you have been walking with your beautiful bare feet on a vine, in another life, in another country, singing such wonderful songs. Do you remember your eyes when we met? They were mad, almost lost hope, exhausted, resurrected, at the very end of my journey I found you again, my beautiful creation.]()
I admit I've been looking for you for too long. I wandered through past lives to meet you in Marseilles, at that time I owned wonderful lands, I would have liked to treat you to dry red wine, but you were not there. Not in that life, not in that city, not anywhere, or so it seemed to me. I've been to Rome, Naples, St Petersburg, Vienna, Paris, and even Rio, but you weren't there. It seems that in my fourth life, I grew roses in Amsterdam, if you only knew how many bouquets of fresh flowers went out waiting for you. I remembered that you were very fond of Greece, but I didn't find you there either. In one of the last lives, I almost despaired, I wanted wine like hell, it was impossible to go back to France, and only Georgia could give me a more beautiful wine. After a long walk, tired, exhausted and battered, I came to a vineyard in Kakheti, in the midst of a huge grape Kingdom, there was a small house: wooden Windows, a cozy architectural view of that time. the door was open and there was a bottle of Mukuzani on the table. My thirst was mercilessly consumed by the wonderful wine, SIP by SIP, like a hungry vampire at a blood transfusion station. I started to think about searching again, but suddenly, I heard a cough from behind, as if someone had called me a CAD, without uttering a single word. You know, when I turned around and saw you in your house dress, which was decorated with grape spots, I didn't want to believe my eyes at all. I have been looking for you among English princesses and Russian tsars, I have been looking for you at shows in Milan and Madrid, and all this time you have been walking with your beautiful bare feet on a vine, in another life, in another country, singing such wonderful songs. Do you remember your eyes when we met? They were mad, almost lost hope, exhausted, resurrected, at the very end of my journey I found you again, my beautiful creation.
5 years ago
