Yes, it's pain to die without words....
The bitter taste of flours is an empty quiet
And dryness vices are in throat
There are no looks, there is absence of you, but hands,
These hands're already wadding, without hands...
Opened by avalanches are the streams of veins and sounds
Clinks as knocking to my heart, are single...
So emptily to die without words...
And world is various with the cage of punishments
And you look at him with glass eyes,
There is no pain, senses and these boring revelations,
All got up into places i from now
And you'll put a cross on you with bandages ,
You will get back for a short time, your heart will only cool off ...
And in dust again, with face, because of your skills...
You will rise and go by not those paths,
In fact it is sad to die without words....
Passed by needles-knives...
Miracle sorcerer whose name is Love....
Miracle sorcerer whose name is Love translated by Victoria Fomin
© Copyright: Харитонов Владимир, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105021601512
Свидетельство о публикации №105021601512
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