Autumn

Autumn leaves the majority of sins
Shrouded in every wind blowing innocently
And gradually becomes pure and identified
With God cherished so much and praised in prayers
Of believers pregnantly aspiring at paradise,
Looking so rubbishly here on earth,
Looking so dreadfully somewhere higher,
And looking for saints becomes again more and more sinful
And painful for every patient of healthy beauty.


Рецензии
Very beautiful poem, Svetlana! So deep - and high...
Yours O.I.

Одиссей Ионийский   31.10.2013 16:24     Заявить о нарушении
I am so happy to receive your appreciation. Many sincere thanks.

Светлана Барашко   31.10.2013 16:39   Заявить о нарушении
На это произведение написаны 2 рецензии, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.