To the song of the heavenly spheres,
Which is played for the bright Paradise,
Like a faithful and pious reverer,
I behold a nocturnal sunrise.
On the throne you stand and intone
Canticles for the living and dead.
You invite to approach your throne,
And I stroke your hair, alone.
See: my palm is in the scarlet bloodshed…
May 13th, 2016
A Nocturnal Sunrise
© Copyright: Хабибулло-Евгений Киселев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120112907197
Свидетельство о публикации №120112907197
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