All around quietly asleep,
The window reflects something hollow ...
But in my heart so badly pricked.
Don't know what will be follow?
I close my eyes perversely.
Let dream sweeping the past.
I will open the truth silently,
That memory has no rest.
And night tenderly touches
To my cheek with smell of roses.
And in my heart hope will wake up,
Taking with its sea of sorrows.
I'm sleeping forgetting of everything.
Sing serenade me , the Night!
Be music in my lonely heart,
Maybe you can help me so right ...
Night, English version
© Copyright: Алина Котлев, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112121609102
Свидетельство о публикации №112121609102
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