Title: Valgfritt

Text: It is of thy hair that I am enamoured, Jokanaan. Thy hair is like the cedars of Lebanon, like the great cedars of Lebanon that give their shade to the lions and to the robbers who would hide themselves by day. The long black nights, when the moon hides her face, when the stars are afraid, are not so black. The silence that dwells in the forest is not so black. There is nothing in the world so black as thy hair... Let me touch thy hair. Hver avsnitt vil være en test.

Save test: Bruk dette hvis du vil dele denne skrivetesten (kun for godkjente brukere).