पुस्तक · I Promessi Sposi
पृष्ठ 505 / 1118
लेखक: Alessandro Manzoni
समय0:00
गति (WPM)0.0
सटीकता100.0%
स्टार्ट दबाएं और पंक्तियां सटीक टाइप करें। · बैकस्पेस अक्षम — गलती के बाद भी जारी रखें।
The sky announced a beautiful day; the setting moon shone pale in
an immense field of azure, which, towards the east, mingled
itself lightly with the rosy dawn. Near the horizon were
scattered clouds of various hues and forms; it was, in fact, the
sky of Lombardy, beautiful, brilliant, and calm. If Renzo had had
a mind at ease, he would no doubt have stopped to contemplate
this splendid ushering in of day, so different from that which he
had been accustomed to witness amidst his mountains; but his
thoughts were otherwise occupied. He reached the brow of the
precipice where he had stood the preceding night, and looking
below, perceived, through the bushes, a fisherman's bark, which
was slowly stemming the current, near the shore. He descended the
precipice, and standing on the bank, made a sign to the fisherman
to approach. He intended to do this with a careless air, as if it
were of little importance, but in spite of himself, his manner
was half supplicatory.
स्टार्ट दबाएं और पंक्तियां सटीक टाइप करें।
शुरू नहीं हुआ