The Magic Flute
With silver strains of a mute warm rain,
Echoing whispers of the universe,
Moaning with passion and weeping with pain.
And the players, musicians, the men that blow?
There’s no one here, just the flute at dawn,
And a gentle breeze, and a breathing soul
Of a magical instrument designed by the Faun.
Свидетельство о публикации №106062602682
Игорь Дадашев 30.08.2006 22:09 Заявить о нарушении