Goodbye, my friend! And this is nothing more,
A piano sings in headphones by low sounds.
As though our meeting this is not shut door,
And our sun was lost in crying clouds.
Please, look for him, he waits especial love.
He looks for also, he is sadly by it.
And I shall live as if the wounded dove,
As if I have not learned well to fly still.
Sometime in rainy autumn, leaden day,
In front of raging vast, on sandy coast
I'll turn to you with new incoming wave,
A-minor will twang by a gentle roust.
Goodbye, my friend
© Copyright: Пешков Илья, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109020805475
Свидетельство о публикации №109020805475
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