I will treat quietly
Over the city sleeping,
On the river night
White fog I will lie down.
In sloe thickets
I will sing a nightingale,
If only you,
Was near somny.
Sun ray
I will touch a cheek,
Cloud easy
Over the head I will be carried by.
Rain drop
You I will kiss,
Winds breath
You I will embrace.
Main thing that,
There was you happy,
Even if I will die...
It is devoted...
© Copyright: Виктор Коневский, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112032401416
Свидетельство о публикации №112032401416
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