In the emerald fields, in the yellow fields
flowers played on little flutes.
Dance, dance, white rabbits of light!
Nostrils of skies smelled honey and blueberries.
Curly winds, trumpets of summer.
Where are you, days of joy?
Where are you, lost dreams?
Ting, ting, flower bells,
see you soon, see you again
in the new corner of tired eternity.
In the emerald fields...
© Copyright: Борис Старосельский, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103022600129
Свидетельство о публикации №103022600129
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