TO MY HUSBAND
The sun isn't oozing gloomily
THough the gray filter of clouds.
And the drips of the thawing snow
Are pattering all over around.
Kids are setting the boats free
In the narrow creeks in the woods,
Which appear to seethe and simmer
With rapidly growing shoots.
I will share my grieves and sorrows
With a gust of a chilly breeze.
And abandon the restless city
And return to calmness and peace.
I'll be watching the fog spreading
Over the glistening lake.
Listening to the sounds of Shopin's waltz
SLowly fading away.
I'll be feeling so young and charming,
Drinking wine in a wild dance,
Thouching gently your hand, my darling,
Cuddling happily in your arms.
1999
Spring is coming
© Copyright: Олле, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103122601215
Свидетельство о публикации №103122601215
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