It is not my blood but sunlight...
In the veins of almost brown arm.
I'm alone with my love unpassing
To my own soul's charm.
Waiting for the hopper, casting seconds,
Tearing a stalk of reed to chew...
- So unusually strong and quintessential
is the scent of being - running through.
Original: www.tsvetayeva.com/poems/solncemzilki
Свидетельство о публикации №116092103711