I myself can my language spell;
I am the drum, I am the bell,
I am the song, I am the call;
The sky is in my drop so small!
I hear the answer of the earth,
I am against the dreary dearth.
You know, my nature is the glee:
The bird begins to sing with me.
The dripping
© Copyright: Владимир Микушевич, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113062207474
Свидетельство о публикации №113062207474
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