There’s no spring in the depth of my soul,
There are only cloudbursts and harsh winds.
When the winter will end – I don’t know,
And what does this damn lingering mean?
Frigid ground under me seems eternal,
Hazy sun doesn't beckon my eyes.
Everywhere I spot only abnormal,
Otherworldly and devilish sights.
Where is the hope? When will everything thaw?
Where is light, so awaited by living?
When the winter will end – I don’t know,
But I trust that someday birds be singing…
There’s no spring in the depth of my soul,
There is only despair and commotion.
Anyway, I keep whistling and go,
Seeking firmly for summer emotions.
There is no spring in the depth of my soul
© Copyright: Виталий Озолиньш, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113040511730
Свидетельство о публикации №113040511730
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