You can't buy Love by mere order only,
You can't select it by the colour, taste...
It comes to one man once without effort,
And to the other man - in tens of years.
One love - is burning, other's - stifled...
And we could say without any hide:
Love doesn't have the standards anyhow!
And everybody have of their own kind.
In cold or in rainy weather, either
In scorching heat,
You shouldn't call, it'll come...
I say in those words about real,
About true and great and tender Love!
And not about love, born in a boredom,
Which, being inflamed, will turn to rather cool...
I say about love, which may be flour,
Which has passed through the death, although.
It burns with such a pleasure in your soul,
Or presses with the weight of lead...
If you have found such Love, then undoubtly
Keep it, hold it and care it till end!
---
Автора не нашла в инете...
Любовь не купишь по заказу... -перевод
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111080201815
Свидетельство о публикации №111080201815
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