Squeezing hands under the black veil
“Why today do you look so pale?”
- ‘Cause with an astringent sorrow
I made him drunk till tomorrow.
He went out, reeling… How can I forget?
His month agonizingly bends…
I run down not touching railings
I run after him till gates.
Suffocatingly “Joke”, - I cried
- “Everything. If you leave, I’ll die”.
Terrifyingly he smiled and cold
“Don’t stay outside” – he told.
Перевод А. Ахматовой Сжала руки под черной вуалью...
© Copyright: Эль Ва, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106101301389
Свидетельство о публикации №106101301389
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