plina

Updated: July 16, 2026

In the doorway of the mill stood a youth clad in the usual coarse cloth "guba" and half concealed by the door post. In one hand he held a double-barrelled musket, an implement not absolutely necessary for a miller. The old man addressed him while still a good way off: "Che timpu?" "Luna plina." A strange sort of greeting, more like an exchange of pass-words.

Mór Jókai - The Poor Plutocrats