Please, my letter, my dear, don't crumple.
Friend, please read it at whole till end.
I'm tired to be the unknown one,
To be alien one on your way.
Don't look at it, don't screw your eyes,
Being angry - I'm your love, I'm your's.
Not a sheperdess, not a queen, either,
Not a nun to the time, by the word.
This grey everyday dress I put now on,
And on worn out heels I take chance...
But, embraces are burning, as earlier,
And there is the same fear in eyes.
Don't crumble my letter, my dear,
Don't cry about cherished, but lie,
And, please, put letter in your so poor bag
On the bottom, please, keep it awhile.
Ты письмо мое, милый... - пер. А. Ахматовой
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112021904946
Свидетельство о публикации №112021904946
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