(П.Тичина "Гаї шумлять")
Ar’ rustling groves -
I listen them.
Small clouds runs -
I ’dmire so.
I ’dmire so, ’m surprised so,
Why it’s cheerful somewhat
So in my soul.
Hey, th’ bell far rings -
From apart how.
Ideas binds -
Above grain fields.
Above grain fields, which overflows,
And bathing me
As small swallow.
I go, I go -
Love touches me.
I wait someone -
I’m singing song.
I’m singing song - my lovely song,
Where grasses silent swing
Soft cherishing.
About something
Dreams groves green.
Hey, edge of skies -
As shining gold.
As shining gold with brilliant folds,
And river flow on fire -
It’s music air.
Groves rustle
© Copyright: Валерий Гузей, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114121510650
Свидетельство о публикации №114121510650
Рецензии