Shadow seldom leaves
Boring condomned cells
And unpunished thieves
Are ringing out the bells
Some non-existent realms
And people-wasted mine
Comes but disappears
In the splash of crime
Chorus:
And shiny servants of forever
Are running backward to run above
They say the poet must be clever
To write the real song of love
You make them all to laugh
At poorness and death
Just make put on the glove
Of slavery and theft
Your sun is rising their
Is falling to desert
You can convince your hair
That no one will be hurt
Chorus
The Song of Love
© Copyright: Ровинь Истрийский, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105110600764
Свидетельство о публикации №105110600764
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