gri_2003_m_46_b02_f03_071
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.449
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.183
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65472159 - not-logged-in-c9b2c93efc284b846cb0
- 65475271 - mar9en
- 65482561 - not-logged-in-7356ea3fad4ce5c74515
- 65496834 - lmorgan9
- WINNER - 65530873 - KathNH
- 65554236 - Cusanus
65472159 - not-logged-in-c9b2c93efc284b846cb0
I adore you, beautiful cat, Minerva, and memories of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from afar as consummately as when we are together - ravishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.It was lucky that it was raining the day you did your watercolour, for when the sun is out the view is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight
Out-post of the reasonable day,
Summer, dreams, and comets wait
To populate the lawn of sleep.
Games of sleep make roses on
The negro ceiling of my room:
A crimson arch that bridges
All years of solitude.
The vice-chairman of one of the committees has been in since I started this letter (the one who takes photographs artistically): I complained of the caption to the picture and he is going to see an Editor of the paper in official capacity himself.
It is a splendid day. I am writing at the table you sat on and frankly most improper thoughts are sponsored by this memory. Thte sun is warm on my back and lions - like cats - like this. I wish you were here.
I love you, my beautiful Sylvia, I love you
Lawrence
65475271 - mar9en
-2-I adore you, beautiful cat, Minerva, and memories
of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from
afar as consumately as when we are together - rav-
ishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.
It was lucky that it was rainy the day you did
your watercolour, for when the sun is out the view
is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight,
Out-post of the reasonable day,
Summer, dreams, and comets wait
To populate the lawn of sleep.
Games of sleep make roses on
The negro ceiling of my room:
A crimson arch that bridges
All fears of solitude.
The Vice-Chairman of one of the committees has been in since I started this letter (the one who
takes photographs artistically): I complained of
the caption to the picture and he is going to see
the Edition of the paper in official capacity him-
self.
It is a splendid day. I am writing at the table
you sat on and frankly most improper thoughts
are sponsored by this memory. The sun is warm
on my back and lions - like cats - like this. I
wish you were here.
I love you, my beautiful Sylvia, I love you,
Lawrence
65482561 - not-logged-in-7356ea3fad4ce5c74515
-2-I adore you, beautiful cat, Minerva, and memories of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from afar as consummately as when we are together - ravishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.
It was lucky that it was rainy the day you did your watercolors, for when the sun is out the view is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight,
Out-post of the reasonable day,
summer, dreams, and comet wait
To populate the lawn of sleep.
Games of sleep make roses on
The negro ceiling of my room :
A crimson arch that bridges
All fears of solitude.
The vice-chairman of one of the committees has been in since I started this letter (the one who takes photographs artistically) : I complained of the caption to the picture and he is going to see the Editor of the paper in official capacity himself.
It is a splendid day. I am writing at the table you sat on and frankly most improper thoughts are sponsored by this memory. The sun is warm on my back and lions - like cats - like this. I wish you were here.
I love you, my beautiful Sylvia, I love you
Lawrence
65496834 - lmorgan9
I adore you, beautiful cat, Minerva, and memories of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from afar as consummately as when we are together, - ravishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.I was lucky that it was rainy the day you did your watercolour, for when the sun is out the view is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight,
out-post of the reasonable day,
summer, dreams, and comets wait
to populate the lawn of sleep.
games of sleep make roses on
the negro ceiling of my room:
all fears of solitude.
The Vice-Chairman of one of the committees has
WINNER - 65530873 - KathNH
-2-I adore you, beautiful cat, Minerva, and memories
of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from
afar as consummately as when we are together -- rav-
ishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.
It was lucky that it was raining the day you did
your watercolour, for when the sun is out the view
is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the
glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight,
Out-post of the reasonable day,
Summer, dreams, and comets wait
To populate the lawn of sleep.
Games of sleep make roses on
The negro ceiling of my room
A crimson arch that bridges
All fears of solitude.
The vice-chairman of one of the committees has
been in since I started this letter (the one who
takes photographs artistically): I complained of
the caption to the picture and he is going to see
the editor of the paper in an official capacity him-
self.
It is a splendid day. I am writing at the table
you sat on and frankly most improper thoughts
are sponsored by this memory. The sun is warm
on my back, and lions -- like cats -- like this. I
wish you were here.
I love you, my beautiful Sylvia, I love you.
Lawrence
65554236 - Cusanus
-2-I adore you, beautiful cat,
Minerva, and memories of you fill me with delight. You enchant me from afar as consummately as when we are together - ravishing villain that you are. I love you, love you.
It was lucky that it was rainy the day you did your water colour, for when the sun is out the view is virtually invisible all the afternoon, with the glare and the dirty windows.
In the soft gulf of twilight,
Outpost of the reasonable day,
Summer, dreams, and comets
wait
To populate the lawn of sleep.
Games of sleep make roses on
The negro ceiling of my room:
A crimson arch that bridges
All years of solitude.
The vice-chairman of one of the committees has been in since I started this letter (the one who takes photographs artistically): I complained of the caption of the pictures, and he is going to see the Editor of the paper in official capacity himself.
It is a splendid day. I am writing at the table you sat on and frankly most improper thoughts are sponsored by this memory. The sun is warm on my back and loins - like cats - like this. I wish you were here.
I love you, my beautiful Cylvia, I love you, Laurence