Dedicated to beloved of mine, magnificient, divinitive's creature Anny...
Those blooming gardens I reveal every night,
Where scent of Thy rose leads me to the glowing dome,
Thy eyes like gems, eclipsing the oncoming dawn,
Enchant me with the beauty of Your darkest light.
Amongst the trees I walk beholding Thine face,
Thy beauty lures me and dazzles, making blind,
For sake of life, the blessing that I could not find -
It condescends to me in image of Thy grace.
Balsam for wounded soul, the cure for mine heart,
Whate'er the hardships and afflictions shall I bear,
The only one remains for what I truly care -
Beloved of mine, the work of godlike fine art.
But sun again awakes me, lone in the bed,
I quit mine dreams, and my emotions grow sad.
Sonnet 3
© Copyright: Александр Иовлев, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109111405345
Свидетельство о публикации №109111405345
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