The magic sounds come from lapping wave,
And ocean drops tears to the night,
And Keiko bends over “Jamaha” slender waist,
She’s inspired, delicate and shy…
And I’m floating across the ghostly fog,
Where ardent whisper is heard from mirrow-room,
Where shadows are rambling near rock,
They tasted fraud of the unhappy doom.
The beauty’s power gives birth to youthful dreams,
They’re cristal-clear like naive fragile teens,
And folly love appears, bringing pain.
Ah, Keiko, angel-birds are flying over you,
You’ve got my soul, searching for recue,
You make me weeping once and once again…
September,2011
Keiko Matsui -1
© Copyright: Тамара Литвиненко, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113052402270
Свидетельство о публикации №113052402270
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