Not just one stroke but going into this one my way, we got a little full sway with brush.

Posted by Omicevic Svjetlana on Saturday, March 19, 2016
He lifted his head and looked at the people, and silence reigned among them. I strongly a voice said: When this love is called, follows it, Although her paths hard and steep. And when you bring her wings, hand to her, Though the sword hidden in her feathers can hurt. And when you speak, believe her, Though her voice may shake your dreams as the north wind ravaged gardens. Because, as you love the crown, so will you, and crucify. Because, as far as helping to grow, so you and prune. As it ascends to your height and dear to you tenderest branches that tremble at sun, That will get you off the roots and shake them while giving heed to the ground. Like sheaves of corn it takes you to be more expensive. She beat you to get you undressed. It shines you to let you peel your freed. It grinds you until pobijelite. She kneads you until you are flexible, And then you throwing on his holy fire, to become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All you will love this do to learn the secrets of your heart and to the that knowledge become a piece of the heart of life itself. But if in your fear, you seek only love peace and love pleasure, You better cover your nakedness and to go to the threshing floor of love, In a world without seasons where you can laugh, but not full of laughter, and where will weep, but not all of your tears, Love gives nothing but himself and does not take anything except themselves. Love has nothing to do, nor is it can have; For love is enough love.