Happiness and days

The great movement of overflowing love capable of washing her heart as the tide washes the shore, and of leveling all forms of human disparity that block the heart of the wealthy community, has been hindered by a thousand dams of selfishness, stubbornness, and ambition. Kindness no longer appeals to her except as elegance. It is true that she was still willing to donate some of her money, her comfort, and her time, but a whole part of her self remained reserved, and she no longer possessed it. She would read and dream in the morning while in her bed, but with a false mind that would stop at external things and look into herself not to deepen her, but to admire her with pleasure and vanity as if she were in front of a mirror... The magic of winter turned into the pleasure of feeling cold, and the joy of hunting closed her heart to the sorrows of autumn. Sometimes, while walking alone in the forest, she sought to restore the natural source of true pleasures. But in the dark evenings, she would adorn herself in shimmering dresses. The joy of elegance would cut her happiness, knowing she was alone and dreaming.