The soul, being cloaked by velvet of the night,
Looks a refuge among innumerable stars,
She turns her hurried and immortal flight
To soul yours – where grows your native grass.
We’re soaring over cosmic precipice,
At bridge that’s like a yoke between two moons,
You’re looking in blue sky, unreal and young,
And herub by his wings invites a rise.
And Keiko rings and modulates her tunes,
Involves us to the fairytale two moons
And casts a spell upon our common sense…
With pity in exhausted hearts, going forth,
We darted off from our lovely doors,
Behind the tunes of our native lands…
September 2011
Keiko Matsui -3
© Copyright: Тамара Литвиненко, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113052402295
Свидетельство о публикации №113052402295
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