I will enter your garden
Where there’re frosty ripened sour cherries
Where there’re grayness and freezing heavenly dusk
Endlessness is too small and likewise I’m, probably, needless
And it strays one from the path into wistful woods
And tomorrow grayness again
Chilling darkness by waterfront mooring…
Destiny mooring, descending to deepness with ease
That saga that rushes to run off from the end to the beginning
The remembrance, which heals descendents’ guilt
Garden
© Copyright: Николай Трофимов, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108052200355
Свидетельство о публикации №108052200355
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