I blame myself for harshness of my love
It is too straight, too youthful for my years
But cannot help: still loving as a blind,
Still cherishing each thought and every moment.
Yet, I am alone, as always, deep in dreams,
I've got so troubled destiny to live with.
There are bad sorrows in the mundane world,
And mine bring pain and grief as like the hardest.
I am writing this to cure my poor heart,
To sacrifice the words to get my freedom:
Being close, being harsh require sacrifice,
Require excuse, though cannot be excused.
The words are all the same: my poor love
Is neither satisfied, nor expressed.
I blame myself for harshness of my love
© Copyright: Валерия Ливина, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107102602805
Свидетельство о публикации №107102602805
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