The Gipsy... imitation of Deep Purple
I asked her, why my damned life was pressed against hard wall? –
And the Gipsy turned and looked at my wrinkled, sad, doomy face,
Said that my life was “not an Ace”!..
Her penetrating coal-black eyes were watching my despair,
She was so calm – my hands were catched by treacherous coward’s tremble;
Laughing at my hesitation she only touched my cooling hand -
Said that my life was about an End!..
I went away from Gipsy’s house to a wild place near the rock,
While wondering felt suffering of such a cruel shock,
The whole day waste in reflections, climbed in edge of that rock then -
To bring my life to “happy End”!
Свидетельство о публикации №109120406548
Instead of singing songs he'd mumble.
His tune was ideally pure
His attitude so mature,
He'd never as little as stumble.
Это не про Вас, а так, вообще. Но некоторых вещей я не понимаю, например, почему countries называются в предыдущем стихотворении (переделке) coutries? И зачем артикли пропускаются, не понимаю, ведь размер-то все равно вроде свободный?
Анна Мостовая 25.02.2010 07:20 Заявить о нарушении
По поводу "переделок": если бы Вы внимательно посмотрели, у меня
есть немало и "самостоятельных" стихов:))))
Владимир Хорошевский 25.02.2010 20:35 Заявить о нарушении