The birches - are whisper sleepy
Swing foliage, which very green,
Their branches like lashes of weppy
Hang down and see sweeting dream...
And murmur him caressly breese,
which breatheling coolness to night,
And looking in brilliant river
From star-sky the moon, she is bright.
And rippling of frolicsom waves
reflection her brilliance shine,
dull glitter - she is gaze at
The water reflected some sky...
There are birchs at night
© Copyright: Дмитрий Федюкин, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107010502415
Свидетельство о публикации №107010502415
Рецензии