Though the winter is on so deep
And stormy winds are blowing cold,
You come to me like maiden spring
And melt the ice inside my soul.
Scent of blossom, you make me breathe,
Is all the way throughout your skin,
You touch like tender sunny beam
And talk just like the angels sing.
The magic colours paint the world
As we are dancing our life,
And one more thing's left to be told -
This spring could take all the time.
Февраль 2008 г., Вильнюс
The spring of mine
© Copyright: Томас Макарскас, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110110203041
Свидетельство о публикации №110110203041
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