Небеса алей пиона - Тетяна Бораньчска

The sky is redder than a peony.
Who is walking along the path?
With an easy step and beautiful,
With an effortless stride.

A red waltzing of braids,
And – I put a metaphor –
Lines are flowing like grapes
And curling up like a vine.
She dreams of stormy seas,
A colour of waves and a foamy seaside,
This mystery is guarded
By an ocean’s shell.

Does it count for an answer
What the seagulls have shouted?
There’s a bit of summer
That has endlessly started.


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