Slight breath - your grasses
Lighter than a hay
The song of my departure
And delay.
I’m always on my way to somewhere.
I can not see
My Poland,
Land of mother’s side.
You are in blue.
The purple Sun.
Your right
Is to be
Loved by me, like
So do I – when Poland
Waits for me.
I’ll see
All your divisions.
I don’t say.
I love you,
Land of lands,
My grass and clay.
July 27, 2011
Poland love
© Copyright: Виталия Пак, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111072706075
Свидетельство о публикации №111072706075
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