Install Steam
login
|
language
็ฎไฝไธญๆ (Simplified Chinese)
็น้ซไธญๆ (Traditional Chinese)
ๆฅๆฌ่ช (Japanese)
ํ๊ตญ์ด (Korean)
เนเธเธข (Thai)
ะัะปะณะฐััะบะธ (Bulgarian)
ฤeลกtina (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Espaรฑol - Espaรฑa (Spanish - Spain)
Espaรฑol - Latinoamรฉrica (Spanish - Latin America)
ฮฮปฮปฮทฮฝฮนฮบฮฌ (Greek)
Franรงais (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Portuguรชs (Portuguese - Portugal)
Portuguรชs - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Romรขnฤ (Romanian)
ะ ัััะบะธะน (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Tรผrkรงe (Turkish)
Tiแบฟng Viแปt (Vietnamese)
ะฃะบัะฐัะฝััะบะฐ (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem
The story of the butterfly:
"I was in Bogota and waiting for a lady friend. I was in love,
a long time ago. I waited three days. I was hungry but could not go
out for food, lest she come and I not be there to greet her. Then, on
the third day, I heard a knock."
"I hurried along the old passage and there, in the sunlight,
there was nothing."
"Just," Vance Joy said, "a butterfly, flying away."
-- Peter Carey, BLISS
โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ง โฅ โก โฅ ๐น โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ฅ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ธ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐
Always there remain portions of our heart into which no one is able to enter,
invite them as we may.
โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ฅ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ณ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ฝ โฅ ๐ โฅ ๐ฝ
,ใใใใใใใใใ.ใ .ใใใใใใใใ.
ใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใ๏พใใใใใใใใใใ
ใใ.ใใใใใใใใ.ใใใใใ.ใใใใใใใใใใใใใ.ใ
ใ.ใใใใใใใใใ โ๐ช๐ฟ๐ ๐ช ๐ท๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐๐๐ด,่ฏใ้ฑๆซใใ คใ คใ คใใใใใใ คใ คใ ค ใใใ.
ใ ใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใ๏พใใใ.ใใใใใใใใใใใใใใ.
,ใใใใใใใใใ.ใ .ใใใใใใใใ.
ใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใใ๏พใใใใใใใใใใ
ใใ.ใใใใใใใใ.ใใใใใ.ใใใใใใใใใใใใใ.ใ