I'd like to tell you about what I don't know.
I don't remember these blizzards with winter,
Spinning hopes in drifts,
These sparkling flakes of snow,
Fallen, as leaves from the winds.
Transparent evening frost
And stars with the icing of needles.
Would the hands could be warmed by the body
And the heart could be warmed with a glance,
To hear a crystal song under the dome of this sky
And to respond like a string...
I do not know
© Copyright: Vlad De Vol, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103022800275
Свидетельство о публикации №103022800275
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