- We will send in 10–14 business days.
/images/books/10541845/9781500987435.jpg)
- Author: Ernest Renan
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 114
- ISBN-10: 1500987433
- ISBN-13: 9781500987435
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.6 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
Reviews
Description
One of the most popular legends in Brittany is that relating to an imaginary town called Is, which is supposed to have been swallowed up by the sea at some unknown time. There are several places along the coast which are pointed out as the site of this imaginary city, and the fishermen have many strange tales to tell of it. According to them, the tips of the spires of the churches may be seen in the hollow of the waves when the sea is rough, while during a calm the music of their bells, ringing out the hymn appropriate to the day, rises above the waters. I often fancy that I have at the bottom of my heart a city of Is with its bells calling to prayer a recalcitrant congregation. At times I halt to listen to these gentle vibrations which seem as if they came from immeasurable depths, like voices from another world. Since old age began to steal over me, I have loved more especially during the repose which summer brings with it, to gather up these distant echoes of a vanished Atlantis.
The promotion ends in 
- Author: Ernest Renan
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 114
- ISBN-10: 1500987433
- ISBN-13: 9781500987435
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.6 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
One of the most popular legends in Brittany is that relating to an imaginary town called Is, which is supposed to have been swallowed up by the sea at some unknown time. There are several places along the coast which are pointed out as the site of this imaginary city, and the fishermen have many strange tales to tell of it. According to them, the tips of the spires of the churches may be seen in the hollow of the waves when the sea is rough, while during a calm the music of their bells, ringing out the hymn appropriate to the day, rises above the waters. I often fancy that I have at the bottom of my heart a city of Is with its bells calling to prayer a recalcitrant congregation. At times I halt to listen to these gentle vibrations which seem as if they came from immeasurable depths, like voices from another world. Since old age began to steal over me, I have loved more especially during the repose which summer brings with it, to gather up these distant echoes of a vanished Atlantis.
Reviews