Walking along the valleys and lakes,
Going through the fires and fogs,
I’m so tired… For God’s sake,
Where are you to whom I belong?
In the desert some flowers have grown up
After tears of mine dropped on sand.
Don’t you see those wounds in my tender heart?
Even desert was merciful then!
It’s so empty around my crystalline soul
In the night talk to me, Nightingale!
Those feelings so precious, I’ve given them all
But to whom, I don’t know till this day!
I’m melting of passion and fever inside.
Is it goodness or terrible sin?
From behind it’s a whisper: “You’ll always be mine!”
Wind of hope is touching my skin…
April 1, 2009
Trip
© Copyright: Марина Сураева, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109040103883
Свидетельство о публикации №109040103883
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