The Moscow breeze will wrap me vnimanem.
To me a train on a platform will wave on farewell
And March of Slav there will be heard by I.
What I not it.
I do not know even why I feel it as
But uom I to understand.
Why I here? And why?
Where must one go? Ch to do to me?
I stopped on boulevard
In confusion I stand.
And tears drop from eyes.
Who here needs me?
And India ink from eyes potekla.
I lost one's head in town enormous.
I know nothing I do not know.
I cost the name I whisper your .Vo sleep I am not quiet.
And more loud all him I yell.
A fire burns into me.
And here to me you came running.
And the station was more pleasant to the barter.
You to me the city showed.
Saw you in sleep and it seemed to me even
That I knew earlier you.
To me the voice your was pleasant.
Woke up and I got again home.
Moscow breeze
© Copyright: Наталья Макойда, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108112100754
Свидетельство о публикации №108112100754
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