It has blown by the smell of a bitterness
From unclear bonfires of fall.
I am glad you have come, ah my pitiless,
Ah my fall, you have come for my call.
I will hear midnight poplars' whispering,
Deepest breath of a fresh greenish grass,
And cascades of gold leaves look like mystery
As if I've never seen them by eyes.
It has blown by the smell...
© Copyright: Юрий Розвадовский, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108010603543
Свидетельство о публикации №108010603543
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I really like the melody and the imagery the go well together.
Беляева Дина 08.01.2009 21:40 • Заявить о нарушении
Беляева Дина 08.01.2009 21:40 • Заявить о нарушении
Thank you very much for your beautiful prize.
Sincerely yours,
Юрий Розвадовский 09.01.2009 01:27 Заявить о нарушении
Sincerely yours,
Юрий Розвадовский 09.01.2009 01:27 Заявить о нарушении