The air is stiff, the forest silent
And waiting for the gentle gale
That brings the air to peaceful island
And torments solitary sail.
As tears heal the heart, to pieces broken,
The rain will wash away the particles of dust.
The ocean, immensely vast and open
Will flush away the ghosts from the past.
As flash of lightning, blasting in the clouds
Rips in an instant the black silk of night
With thunder, which everywhere sounds-
So truth comes forth with glimpses of insight.
The storm is gone, the sun is shining,
There is no trace of clouds in the sky.
Same is the mind of hermit being
A sheer space, without sense of "They" and "I"
White sail
© Copyright: Александр Дорджеев, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112121400281
Свидетельство о публикации №112121400281
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