«Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands forever I love».
R. Burns
The human nature is to stick
to what`s familiar:
being tied up is like addic-
tion to a milieu.
but some abandon bitter moan
of no-returning
for place where happiness is known
to be eternal.
go find a place where silence reigns
in peaceful weather.
farewell to bitter-water rains
hail-ho to better-.
my private heaven starts and ends
in drinking whisky
observing native scottish lambs`
relentless frisking,
although it turns me into hot
well-oiled mutton,
the wooden door of Pub is not
quite yet forgotten.
the wooden door of Pub is not quite yet forgotten
© Copyright: Чертова Кукла, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104071101015
Свидетельство о публикации №104071101015
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