You’d reject all happiness,
All gifts of beaux arts
For a moment and a drop
Of true loving pure heart.
Our flying among your mind
By your wings of poetry
Conducts us to resign
earthly feelings to be free.
But your love was so attractive
That we'd like to feel its charms.
And your spirit will be so active
That will wake passions in us.
When we could spread our wings
Like a dove rushing off to the sky
Then we would receive your gift
to fly away, away from this life.
To Lord G. Byron
© Copyright: Альберт Афлитунов, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120050607056
Свидетельство о публикации №120050607056
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