Светлый фон
So gleams the past, the light of other days,

Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;

Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;

A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,

A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,

Distinct, but distant — clear, but oh, how cold!

Distinct, but distant — clear, but oh, how cold!

George Gordon Byron.

George Gordon Byron.

Я открыл прозрачные двери офиса они открылись перед моим лицом.