Take a rest, my iron eyes
It’s a hard for you to see
Sick and weakness of the mind,
Missing hopes and rare tree.
Take a rest, my pale lips,
You have frozen due to autumn
And so suddenly have clipped
By the things I’ve not forgotten
Take a rest, my burning soul!
All your warm is not enough
To collapse an endless wall,
That’s appeared on the path.
He is gone! Don’t cry, my soul
Nothing new and same old things
All of us are playing a role
In the life one day we leave.
He has gone...
© Copyright: Анна Маркова Мамукина, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111122504077
Свидетельство о публикации №111122504077
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