The village cemetery has an eternal pace,
Pine – trees look at perpetual rotations
Of merry – go – rounds: people, countries, nations,
And birds feast funeral repast which will take place.
That peace is fearful but honeyed by the patience,
It leads to the oblivion for ever,
It cleans by stealth the trace of generations,
As if they’ve never been with us, yes, never, never…
The village cemetery
© Copyright: Валерия Суворова, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109110206904
Свидетельство о публикации №109110206904
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Valery,
Your poetry is spellbinding.
I'll be coming back for more.
Pleased to make your acquaintance.
Dina
Беляева Дина 03.11.2009 04:17 • Заявить о нарушении
Your poetry is spellbinding.
I'll be coming back for more.
Pleased to make your acquaintance.
Dina
Беляева Дина 03.11.2009 04:17 • Заявить о нарушении