Chapter 1310

Outlined by the evening orange, the Seine River is full of waves.

They are leaning against the railing of the mirabo bridge, standing where they committed suicide in the Celan river.

The bronze inscriptions of apollinel at the bridge head are as blue as the sky in Paris at the moment. The bridge in the 16th district of Paris is surrounded by relatively modern skyscrapers, which is incompatible with the bridge with a certain sense of exile in King's landing love.

Standing in the middle of the bridge, the four statues decorated on the piers represent Paris, commerce, navigation and abundance. The Seine River, which flows slowly at the foot, seems like a long love speech, like a vast wave. Not far away, there is a small statue of liberty presented by the United States to France.

In the setting sun, the man's face is coated with a layer of pale orange, and Junlin loves to see some enchantment. Thinking of these days' unforgettable and crazy trip to Paris, he unconsciously holds his hand.

Once upon a time, the dream of expectation turned into reality.

Walking on fallen leaves, leaning against shangguangkun tower, embracing milabo bridge, standing in the place where Austrian Jewish poet Paul Zelan threw himself into water to commit suicide.

"Bury these words with the dead, that's what he said for life. Put his head gently in the middle of the words, and let him experience the tongue and tongs of desire."

"The blood in his heart has been running."

The king's landing love, which was held in his arms by a man, also read "to Paul elujah" by Celan: "when a hand is as naked as he is, tie the person who calls him 'you' to the future tree."

Only they can understand the obscure verse and the secret emotion.

The great significance of that suffering, exile, tragedy.

In the afterglow of the sunset, the man affectionately kisses her lips. Sacred and beautiful, an eternal silhouette is fixed on the mirabol bridge, integrating into his and her moment.

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in the riverside apartment of District 16, the rimailbo bridge is not far away. This is the property purchased by Kunta during his schooling. It is an old building with a history of more than 200 years.

Walking up the nostalgic, narrow stairs, dark green wallpaper, the wooden floor creaks old.

The first floor of the apartment belongs to a wife named Pierre, who is also the administrator of the three storey apartment. In recent years, the wife has been cleaning Kunta, so everything is clean.

Mrs. Pierre lives on the first floor. The second and third floors belong to Kunta.

Old time gramophones, copper loudspeakers, and neat books on bookshelves, many of which are original copies of bronzed paper rolls.

The floor is covered with red and gold Bohemian carpets, ancient sandalwood furniture, and crafts from Naples.

Kunta's aesthetics is always so high.

Here, the cultural nostalgia is the same as that of the Guangkun tower in the Far East. The three-dimensional space of several staggered floors in the golden triangle is totally different.

The residential buildings in Paris are generally narrow and small, and here is no exception. However, the outdoor lighting is very good. When you go to the third floor, the wind blows into the living room, and when you go to the balcony, you can see the Mirabeau bridge in the distance.

"Here is the key." The man opened a cupboard on the bookshelf and handed a brown brown brown paper bag to King lin'ai, which contained the French real estate transfer registration, the house deed, a bank card and a copper key.

He put these, all solemnly in her hand.

Junlin love slightly shakes his mind, and has an ominous premonition in her heart. She is not stupid. The words of shangguangkun tower's looks in the past two days are just like what happened after the explanation, which makes her feel inexplicably worried.

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